


Killing me Softly

by KimboKah



Category: Backstreet Boys
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Drama, Gen, Horror, Kidnapping, Psychological Horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-21
Updated: 2016-04-21
Packaged: 2018-04-05 10:47:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 38
Words: 48,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4176993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KimboKah/pseuds/KimboKah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nick and Brian had been missing for three days, then one of them came back. Will they ever find the other back in time?</p><p>It's fighting in vain when you know that with each day that passes, hope is diminishing. It's a race against time. It's being stuck in a nightmare that has a close resemblance to reality. It's hell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue - Date: Unknown

**2002**

 

  
  
 _Date: unknown_  
  
The basement smelled of sweat, urine, vomit and a dozen other things. The young man barely noticed. He stared, mesmerized, into the dark. Fascinated by the slow trickle of blood that ran down his arm, all the way to his fingertips, eventually dropping to the ground in thick, slow splashes. Was it his? Must be. Did he care?  
  
Not really.  
  
He only remembered his name and he held onto it with all he had left, which wasn’t much. He had no idea how he’d ended up here, had forgotten his life before. Had there been more than this? He blinked, stirring slightly from his trance as a spark of pain shot through his head. That happened whenever he tried to think about something. It was unpleasant.  
  
The young man closed his eyes and counted to five. When he reopened them, she was there, just like always.   
  
Close, so close. Her clean, soft fingers touched his bloody and bruised ones. A warm, loving feeling flowed through their touch, reawakening his weak mind.   
  
“Stay with me,” he whispered, his broken heart aching when she shook her head sadly. Her face was unrecognizable, yet so familiar.   
  
“I can’t,” she said softly, “Stay strong, Brian.”  
  
“Please,” he called brokenly as he watched her hands fading from his grip. Her light hair, her blue eyes, the warm, loving feeling slowly dissipating, “Please, I’m so alone,” he said to the darkness.  
  
He bit his lip, taking in a shaking breath as he closed his eyes again, counting to five. She wasn’t there.   
  
The basement smelled of sweat, urine, vomit and a dozen other things. He stared, mesmerized, into the dark.


	2. October 14th: Found

_Date: October 14th_  
  
I startled awake. It was 4 am and I hadn’t even realized I’d fallen asleep. Downstairs, the phone was ringing persistently and I groaned as I tried to wake up fully. My eyes widened when I realized that the ringing phone could only mean one thing at this hour.  
  
Throwing on some pants and a t-shirt, I raced downstairs, stumbling over a chair as I reached for the phone. With a loud smack that resounded through the silence of the night, I landed on the floor, holding up the phone in triumph. With another groan I pressed the button, clearing my throat.  
  
“Hello?”  
  
“Howard?”  
  
“Who else?” I grumbled, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. I slowly scrambled to my feet, feeling my he art pound in my ears.   
  
“Right…”  
  
“Johnny?” I questioned, a little uneasily. Our manager was not usually this hesitant, but I figured, in times like these, nothing was usual.  
  
“I-… They…” Johnny managed to squeeze out, “N-Nick… They found Nick.”  
  
I felt my breath hitching in my throat as the corners of my vision seemed to get darker. I squeezed my eyes shut, biting my bottom lip and tried to calm my maniacally beating heart.   
  
“O-oh…” I squeaked pathetically. “W-Where? Where has he been?”  
  
“Don’t have a clue,” Johnny sighed. I faintly heard the engine of a car on the background, “The fucking police aren’t telling us shit.”   
  
“But… what did they tell you?” I asked, trying to concentrate while my heart was racing a marathon. We’d been waiting helplessly for almost three days, not knowing what we could expect and when. “Is he okay?”  
  
“I think so. He apparently came out of the woods, stumbling onto the road. Trucker found him, brought him back to the city. He’s pretty banged up and exhausted, but he should be fine.”  
  
I suddenly remembered how to breathe. Nick was back, and he was okay… mostly. I had a million questions I knew Johnny couldn’t answer. Where had he been? That was the main one. But wait…  
  
“Just Nick?” I asked wearily, pinching the bridge of my nose as I paced the living room of my apartment.   
  
I heard Johnny sigh at the other end of the line, the noise of the engine had died down, “Yeah, just him. Sorry, Howard, there was no trace of Brian, and Nick apparently hasn’t said anything since he got back.”  
  
I winced as I bit the inside of my mouth. Three days.  
  
What could have happened in three days, I questioned myself. I remember being pissed that the two didn’t show up at the airport when they should have. It was like déjà vu all over again. We had just gotten AJ back on track, and now Brian and Nick were taking off as they pleased? At that moment, while waiting awkwardly at customs, I am sure I would have killed them with my own bare hands if they had decided to come at the last possible second. One look at Kevin proved that he felt the same.  
  
Ten hours later, I would have done anything to know where they were. By then I was sure something bad must have happened. Nick could be a bit irresponsible at time. Although he was 21, he often acted like a fifteen year old. It wasn’t a seldom occurrence for him to venture off in the night without letting anyone know and then show up the morning after, barely on time. It was one of my rational fears that he would follow suit in AJs footsteps despite of all the warnings that Kevin kept giving him.  
  
But Brian would have at least called his wife when he ended up having to venture after Nick to keep him from doing stupid things. And given that we had an important appointment at the other side of the country when they disappeared, I doubted that they had just ‘forgotten the time.’  
  
So yeah, we called in the police after 24 hours. We tried to do it earlier, but people can apparently not be classified as missing persons if it’s been less than 24 hours. Stupid law. In that time, they could have been six states over. Detective Morson put out an alert and then the media exploded. Which is kind of a good thing, considering the fact that the more people that know about it, the higher the chance of them getting found.  
  
But the only result was that me, Kevin and AJ haven’t been able to sleep, think or breathe for the past three days because of the whole circus this situation has caused. We’ve been questioned, poked, accused and stared at by anyone and everyone. I mean, more than usual, obviously. It made AJs trip to rehab seem like a minor occurrence.   
  
We've made the headlines again, Johnny. Isn't that what you wanted?  
  
And now, finally, after waiting for almost 72 hours, Nick came stumbling out of the woods.


	3. October 15th: Shock

_Date: October 15th_

 

  
I sigh, frustrated, and let my head fall into my hands.  
  
I tried to be patient, but I’m not really known as a patient man anyway. When I look back up, I see Nick staring back at me blankly, like he’s done for the largest part of the afternoon. It took Howie and me almost three hours to get back to California after Johnny’s call two nights ago. I remember the gigantic weight that had fallen off my shoulders when he said Nick had been found. For the whole of one minute, I was happy and relieved. But then the questions had started to invade my mind.  
  
Most of those questions are still questions. Nobody had any idea where Nick had been for three days. Nobody. I even started to doubt Nick himself remembered what happened. Whatever it was, it left a huge impression on him, and not of the good kind. You only have to look him in the eyes to know he’s been traumatized.   
  
In shock.  
  
 _Useless._  
  
He winces at the mention of my cousin’s name and I sit up a little straighter, asking the question again. “Do you know where Brian is?”  
  
He looks away only briefly, before the blank, expressionless stare reappears. But it is enough for me to shift to the edge of my seat. I shouldn’t do it. I shouldn’t push him. But I can’t help it, I have to know. So I ask him again. He scrunches up his face and shakes his head, almost unnoticeably. He looks down, touching the stark white cast around his wrist. He refuses to look up again.  
  
I sigh, pressing the heels of my hands into my eyes and clear my throat. The past few days haven’t been easy for me as well. The fear had been slowly suffocating me, still is, actually. Having Brian and Nick around to screw with you wasn’t always the way I wanted to spend my days. But not having them around when they were supposed to, and not knowing where they were, that was nearly killing me.   
  
I slowly let my hands slide down, until only the tips of my fingers are still touching my eyes. I take a deep breath and pull them away, staring directly into Nick’s bruised forehead. I swallow thickly, feeling a strange kind of anger surging through me. Whoever or whatever was responsible for that broken wrist and those scratches and bruises… they were gonna pay. Greatly.   
  
“Come on man,” I say softly, trying to use my most comforting and soothing voice. “We’ve all been so worried. I mean, you guys just suddenly disappeared. We didn’t know anything, we couldn’t do anything. Leighanne’s freaking out, so is your mom, by the way.”  
  
His head shoots up when I mention his mother and he gives me an incredulous look. “Really?” He asks in disbelief, his voice scratchy from disuse.  
  
My heart flares hope when I hear his voice, when I see his expression change from emotionless to a terrified kind of helplessness. I scoot a little closer to his bed, slightly surprised when he doesn’t immediately move away from me, as he did before. “Yeah man, of course,” I said, not mentioning the fact that his mother had spent the last two days running around blaming everybody for Nick’s sudden disappearance.   
  
Because wasn’t it our fame and status that had caused this all? Weren’t we supposed to be heavily protected? Wasn’t that what we paid security for? And yeah, I had spent the last two days feeling tremendously guilty, even without Jane’s accusations.   
  
 _“Sure, aunt Jackie, I’ll keep an eye on him, he’ll be fine. We’re family, right?”_  I remember that promise from years ago when I dragged Brian into our group. I had been hesitant to ask his parents before I called his school. They were pretty overprotective of their son, which wasn’t so strange, considering he had almost died on them once. But dear Lord, he had been the last perfectly fitting piece in the puzzle that was now this boyband. I knew it then, before I even called, I know it now. I promised to keep an eye on him, joking that I knew exactly what kind of trouble boys that had just turned eighteen could get into in the big city. We were family, right? It wasn’t like he didn’t know anybody. He would be fine.  
  
And now he was gone.  
  
Nick still looks at me, silently screaming for help with his eyes only. I know that look to some extent, though not in this intensity. He would throw me looks like that when he forgot the dance steps to a certain routine, hoping that I would magically know what to do in those kind of cases. No matter what kind of immediate danger he was in, he would turn to me to save him.   
  
I felt responsible.  
  
“Was he with you?” I whisper, feeling the trust Nick has in me slowly getting stronger. I gave him hope, even if it was little, I told him his parents cared. He nods slowly, solemnly. I don’t ask him what happened, I can’t force it out of him, he has to be the one to start that conversation. And judging by the codependency he’s forcing me into right now, he’s not ready for that.   
  
“Do you know where he is now?” I ask instead, choosing to focus on the problem of my still missing cousin.   
  
Nick’s face scrunches up again and he desperately bites his lip to keep the tears inside in vain. He shakes his head, a fierce sob escaping his throat. “I’m sorry,” he cries in a thick voice.  
  
I frown, leaning forward. I feel him stiffen as my fingers touch his shoulder, but he doesn’t move away.  
  
“It’s okay,” I offer weakly, moving a bit closer, “It’s not your fault.”  
  
He breaks, slamming himself into me with force as I wrap my arms around his bruised frame. I feel him shaking and sobbing, hear him utter unintelligible sentences, notice the broken roughness in his voice.  
  
His fists ball in my shirt and we sit there for what seems like hours.   
  
When he’s calmed down somewhat, he sits back in the bed, staring down. “You don’t understand, Kev,” he mutters to his hands. “They didn’t let me go.”  
  
I look at him, partly in shock; it’s the first time he’s said anything about it directly.  _They? Who were they?_  I refrain myself from asking that question. “Oh,” I softly say instead.  
  
He shook his head, a humorless smile tugging at his lips, “I escaped,” Nick reveals, looking straight at me with the darkest expression I had ever seen on him, and I sit back, a little frightened.   
  
“Uh-huh,” I offer flatly.  
  
“You don’t understand, Kev,” he says again, the weird, terrifying smile reappearing, “I didn’t  _just_  escape, Brian made me.”  
  
My frown grows deeper, if that’s possible, “W-What?” I ask hesitatingly.  
  
Nick takes a shaky breath, “H-he said he had a plan… said he would distract them… told me to run… run, Nick, don’t look back, Nick. No matter what you hear, don’t look back. No matter what, Nick, just run.” The emotions in his voice make it hard to understand him, but I get the general idea, I get what he’s trying to say, and it terrifies me to no end.   
  
“No,” I whisper breathlessly.  
  
“I didn’t listen, Kev,” Nick sobs quietly, “I looked back. He screamed at me to keep running, but I looked back. Things happened, terrible things, Kev. I-… I can’t…” he shakes his head wordlessly, his voice giving out. I close my eyes in resignation, trying to fathom what he’s trying to say.  
  
“Is he… is he alive?” I ask weakly, uselessly.  
  
He shrugs helplessly, muttering “I don’t know, Kev,” looking at me with that same expression again. That look that begs me to do something, anything at all, to make it better, to erase these horrible memories from his mind, to say it was all just a stupid dream. You only have to look him in the eyes to know he’s been traumatized. 


	4. October 11th: Escape

_Date: October 11th_

 

  
So, we went golfing.   
  
That’s what you wanna hear, right Kev? You wanna know what we did that day? Well, fine, we went _golfing_. We didn’t go out into clubs, we weren’t on a hunt for alcohol and drugs, we went golfing. We didn’t ask for anything to happen, we were just… golfing.  
  
I hate golfing.  
  
I suck, and Brian knows it, so he’s the one that suggested to go. Just so he could show off. I mean, I’m 21 years old, he’s 26… we shouldn’t be golfing. Golfing is for sixty year old multimillionaires, which description we only fit half. But fine, Brian asked me to come, so I went, because we never get to spend time with just the two of us anymore.   
  
I admit that I’ve had trouble accepting the fact that the times of playing Mario Kart all night long in a small hotel room are over. Of nights laying on our backs, talking about the exciting, bright, wide-open future ahead of us. Of eating three pizzas around eleven o’clock, without any sense of shame. Of bragging about certain girls we dated and the things we’d done to them. So when Brian asks me to go golfing with him, I fucking go golfing with him.  
  
I sound desperate.  
  
And no, Kev, we didn’t bring security. Why? Because the average age on a golf course is 55, and at 55, everyone could care less two Backstreet Boys are in approximate reach. I mean, it’s not like I need Q to see how Brian is butchering me either.   
  
 _Butchering…_  
  
 _Fuck._  
  
Um, so where was I? Right, so Brian freaking put my score to shame and he was quite annoying about that. So I told him we should head to the airport, because I, for one, did remember we had to catch a plane in forty minutes. But yeah, he was being a teasing pain the whole time. Why am I even explaining this? You know him, he’s your cousin.   
  
Anyway, we were just gonna call a cab and head to the airport, cause I figured that you and Howie would have a fit if we didn’t get there on time. And we were just calmly waiting there at the sidewalk outside the golf course, you know, with Brian reminding me every two minutes that he beat me big time. We weren’t conspicuous; we wore sunglasses, caps and everything.   
  
We didn’t do anything wrong, Kev.  
  
But I guess it didn’t matter.  
  
There wasn’t a warning. There was no strange feeling of suspicion. One moment Brian was promising me, unasked, that he would teach me that certain swing of his, the next I felt arms slowly wrapping around me from behind, grasping my face, putting something with a terrible smell against my mouth and nose. I heard Brian yell something at me, and then nothing. I didn’t have time to get scared; I didn’t have time to struggle.  
  
I learnt that chloroform works insanely quick on me.  
  
I don’t know where I woke up, or when. I only know I woke up before Brian did. That’s when I did get scared, cause he looked dead, Kev. I guess chloroform doesn’t work well with Brian. I guess he did have time to struggle, I think they whacked him on the head because of that. There was, like, this big purple bruise on his brow that he wouldn’t let me touch. So I guess it hurt.  
  
But God, we were both covered in bruises I didn’t remember getting. We were like two beaten dogs left alone in the dark. The freaking basement was empty and smelly and dark. We couldn’t hear anything besides our own breathing. Nobody came down, nobody bothered. Every now and then, very seldom, we would hear footsteps on the floor above us. Brian would pound his fist against the ceiling after he climbed the small stairs that led to the locked door. He would yell his voice out, and I would just sit still.   
  
I was scared, Kev, okay?  
  
I don’t know when or why they decided to show themselves eventually. It must have been after one and a half day or so. They had these creepy looking animal masks that I’m sure will forever haunt me from now on.  
  
I remember being frozen to my spot as they came down.   
  
Three of them, they had these big, construction site lamps, shining into our eyes. I remember Brian jumping up, livid. The tallest mask growled something at him I couldn’t understand, but he sat back down immediately, so I guess it must have scared him.   
  
And no, Kev, they didn’t pick one of us to go and torture or something. They just shone at us with their stupid lights, muttering among themselves before disappearing again. I have no freaking clue what that was about. I asked Brian if he knew, but he just said it was going to be alright, like he had done for the majority of time we’d been down there.  _It’s gonna be okay, Nick, we’ll get out of here. They can’t keep us here forever, you know that. They’ll let us go once they’ve gotten the money or something._  
  
But they never asked for money, did they, Kev?  
  
I think that is what bothers me the most. They didn’t want anything, they just wanted us. Maybe they’ll want you too. Or Howie, or AJ. Maybe they want all five of us. Maybe they were just waiting until they got you guys down there too before they would start the real party.  
  
I don’t know, Kev.  
  
I just know I escaped, and I pray they won’t find us here. I pray Brian finds a way to escape too. I pray they’ll be punished for what they’ve done to me and Brian. I pray they die, every single one of them, the sick bastards.   
  
I escaped, Kev. I’m back. At least I think I am. I don’t know how exactly I managed to break free, but I know Brian sacrificed a lot for me to be able to get away. He told me he had a plan. He wouldn’t tell me details. I don’t know if he himself even knew the details.  _The next time_ , he said,  _the next time they’ll come down here, we’ll escape. We’ll get out of here, Nicky, together._  I think he knew right then and there that he was lying. I wish I had known it too, because the plan sounded stupid and desperate. The next time they would come down, I would back away into the furthest corner like Brian had told me to, forcing the masked monsters to come further into our burrow.   
  
Only two this time, we were lucky. One barked at me.  
  
Where was my little friend? I shrugged helplessly and he grabbed my arm with a snarl. Told me to quit screwing around. I shrugged again, astonished by my own courage. I was glad it was dark, Kev, otherwise I would have given Brian’s spot away kind of immediately. But they weren’t stupid.   
  
They dragged me through the basement, yelling threats to Brian about what they would do to me if he didn’t show himself immediately. I saw him before they did, right behind the other monster, right next to the door.  
  
I don’t know how or why he learnt that, but Brian can be a stealth son of a bitch, Kev. Like a freaking ninja or something. It wasn’t part of the plan, not part of the plan I was informed of, at least. I remember yelling as Brian jumped the guy at the door, watched them fall down the stairs, Brian landing on top of the monster. Felt the monster behind myself tightening his grip before shoving me down. I fell on the filthy ground, breaking my wrist in the process. My monster went to help the other monster. I was stunned for a moment, Kev. I mean, I had never thought I would witness two ginormous guys fist Brian down onto the floor. I didn’t know what to do Kev. I didn’t know.   
  
Until I heard Brian yell at me. Scream for me to run, to run and not look back. No matter what, don’t look back.   
  
So I ran. And I looked back and couldn’t run any further.  
  
He was fighting back, Kev. But that didn’t matter in the least. They kept hitting him, Kev, and he didn’t move anymore. And I didn’t do anything. I just stood there until one of them stood up and went looking for me.  
  
I ran, Kev. I left him there. How could I do that?  
  
I guess I panicked. I don’t remember much from my mad dash up the stairs, from my desperate stumbling around the cottage. I only remember my heart feeling like it was going to explode in my chest. I found the back door and I ran until I couldn’t run anymore.  
  
And then I ran some more.


	5. October 13th: Eye for an Eye

_Date: October 13th_

 

  
With a disgusted snarl, Jacob Emmery threw one last punch. Not that he wasn’t sure the kid was out cold, he just felt that the boy deserved it. And so does Danny, he thought as he slowly got to his feet, looming over the crouched, blond man.   
  
“What in the hell were you thinking, leaving that door open?” he growled, roughly grabbing Dan’s collar as he hauled him upright.  
  
“Ow, man! Jeez, be careful!” Dan hissed as his hand shot to his bleeding forehead.   
  
“That’s what you get when you let your guard down. You’re weak, Dan!” Jacob barked, shoving the other man into the dark of the basement, “Now what are we gonna do, huh?”  
  
Daniël Emmery stayed silent as he wiped at the blood that was slowly trickling into his right eye. He fucked up, like he didn’t know that. He really didn’t need his brother to clarify that fact. He’d watched Jake slowly disappear into the basement, while completely oblivious to the Backstreet Boy creeping up to him from behind.   
  
He remembered the smaller man jumping him, sending them both crashing down the stairs into the basement. He remembered landing on his back and the surprisingly fast fists of the Backstreet Boy, and not very much else. A red haze had taken over after that. Blinded by anger and by his pounding head, he’d let his fists fly, satisfied with every punch that hit home.   
  
The kid had tried to fight back, had screamed for his bandmate to run, had bravely tried to dodge the vicious hits that were aiming for his head, but had eventually passed out when a well-aimed punch hit his temple. Now he lay in a small, miserable heap at the bottom of the stairs.   
  
Where he belonged.  
  
“I asked you something, Danny!” Jacob’s roaring voice thundered through the confined, damp basement.   
  
“I don’t know, alright?” Dan answered, matching his older brother’s volume. “The fucker fucking crept up on me. You didn’t see him either!”  
  
“I was busy chasing the other one!” Jake sighed, “Why did we need two, again?”   
  
Daniël shrugged, wincing as he pressed his hand against his ribs, “I think you need to ask Chris that,” he growled. “Good job letting the little shit escape though.”  
  
Jacob threw him a menacing look, “That wouldn’t have happened if you weren’t losing a fight against this twig!” He spat, wildly gesturing to the bloodied heap of human that lay a few feet away from them. “The real issue here is; what do we do now?”  
  
“We go after him, of course. I mean, he can’t have gotten that far, right?”  
  
Jake heaved a sigh, raking one hand through his short hair, and nodded. “Right, I’ll send Jeff and Gino. But God, Danny, the client is not going to be happy with this.”  
  
“Fuck the client, Jake. That fucking kid almost broke my neck!” Danny whined.  
  
“You’re a pussy,” Jake huffed, turning around and slowly climbing the stairs to the basement door, “Take that with you.”  
  
Dan rolled his eyes, glaring at the unconscious boy that still lay in the exact same position as he left him in. With a pained grunt, he bent down and scooped him up before roughly throwing him over his shoulder.  
  
The kid gave no sign of stirring and with a dissatisfied snarl; Danny staggered up the stairs, after his brother.   
  
He blinked when Jacob turned on the glaring lights in the cottage’s living room. Unceremoniously, he let the burden on his back fall down onto the stuffy, molted couch. After Jake called them, it didn’t take long before Jeff and Gino showed up. Danny briefly wondered why his brother and he didn’t go after the refugee themselves, but then he remembered the car that had broken down right before they had arrived at the cottage. It was crazy to go into the dark forest by foot this late.   
  
He heard Jake and the other two speak in a hushed tone in the kitchen. Apparently he had babysit duty and wasn’t allowed to know what the older men were talking about.  
  
Fucking great.  
  
He let himself fall onto the couch, bringing up a cloud of dust in the process, and sighed. A smirk of contentment played on his lips when he studied the Backstreet Boy’s physical state. The bruises were already starting to show. That kid wouldn’t be able to move without pain for days. Good. He’d been difficult enough. But he showed fight. Gerald would like that.   
  
Danny felt the smaller man move beside him and froze a little. The boy blinked owlishly at him with a confused expression and groaned.   
  
Right then his brother and the other two returned from the kitchen. Jake threw one look at the Backstreet Boy, who was trying to wake up on the couch, and narrowed his eyes.  
  
“Get him upright,” he growled at Daniel, who grinned maliciously.  
  
“My pleasure,” he muttered as he grabbed the smaller man’s armpits and with swung both of them in a standing position with one fluent motion. The kid yelped in surprise before immediately slumping in Danny’s grasp.  
  
Daniel was unrelenting though and kept the flinching boy up without much effort.   
  
Jacob smiled at the sight before him. The kid was obviously in pain. Good. He deserved it for what he’d done. It didn’t have to become as complicated as it was now, but the boy had messed everything up. He deserved punishment. And Jake knew exactly how to give it and how it would hit home the most.  
  
“We’re gonna have lots of fun, you and I,” he purred, bending down so that his face was inches from the kid’s. “We don’t need that other one. You were right.  
He’s only in the way. Good thing you made him leave.”  
  
The boy whimpered pathetically, weakly trying to escape from Daniel’s steel hold of his arms behind him. He didn’t seem capable of making conversation.  
  
Very good.  
  
“But you see, Brian,” Jacob continued, licking his lips, “We can’t let him go either. So you understand what we have to do here?”  
  
The kid swallowed thickly, realization slowly dawning upon him. “No…” he whimpered quietly, “Please, no.”  
  
“You hurt my brother, Brian.” Jake frowned in mock anger. “That wasn’t very smart. You’re hurting, aren’t you, brother?”  
  
Danny narrowed his eyes at his brother, but decided to play along, “Yeah, that wasn’t cool, kid.”  
  
The kid’s breathing sped up as panic took over, “Please, I’ll do anything, please, don’t…”  
  
“You hurt my brother. Now I’m gonna hurt yours,” Jacob concluded and straightened his back, turning to the two grinning faces behind him. “Jeff, Gino, take the truck. Make sure you search the woods, he can’t be far,” Jake instructed, then sneered on a tone he was sure the boy could hear perfectly clear, “Shoot on sight.”  
  
Daniel lost his grip when the boy’s knees buckled. The kid slumped to the ground with a defeated expression on his bruised features. Jacob narrowed his eyes at the sight, but smiled nonetheless. “Get him to the car, we have to leave before dawn.”


	6. 6. October 16th: No Mercy

_Date: October 16th_

The vehicle came to a jerky halt and Brian felt himself falling forward. Without the possibility to catch himself with his hands, his head banged against the floor roughly. If he didn’t already have a concussion by now, he was sure it wouldn’t take much more. He couldn’t be bothered to move and decided to stay in the same position as he’d fallen in. It wasn’t exactly comfortable, but then again, nothing was in this hellhole that was the back of a filthy, old SUV. He could feel every muscle in his body scream for relief and his head started to pound in earnest, as it had done for the past few days.

Fuck it, it’s what he deserved.

He’d thought he was smart. It wasn’t exactly the perfect plan, but for a moment there, he’d thought it had worked. His master plan had had a lot of holes in it, he realized now. For example, he hadn’t thought of anything beyond Nick escaping the basement and the house. He hadn’t thought of the tiny little fact that they had been in the middle of nowhere, probably twenty miles from anything in every direction. In the middle of the woods.

That should have occurred to him earlier.

He’d thought he’d bring Nick to safety if he’d manage to cause him to escape the house. That all would be well if the boy wasn’t in close range of those monsters.

Instead, he’d sentenced his younger friend to death.

The monsters had become angry, of course. They’d set out with a pick-up truck, with guns and rifles, in order to hunt the youngest Backstreet Boy down. They succeeded, of course. A scared and lost kid stumbling through the woods without a destination was no match for two merciless killers. Brian remembered Gino and Jeff’s satisfied smirks as they came back, only three hours later. They’d smiled evilly at him, throwing him Nick’s filthy and torn baseball cap as some kind of trophy for murdering him.

Brian remembered losing his mind right then and there. He’d screamed and cried until he was hoarse, but no one seemed to care, or to listen. The days after that had been a haze, which was comforting in some way. They’d thrown him into the back of an SUV and had driven for three days straight. He’d been allowed to leave the car once, but only after he’d threatened that he’d piss over the entire vehicle if they wouldn’t let him go to a bathroom right now. He’d been dragged into a dark bar, under the threat that if he didn’t act normal, they’d slit his throat. He’d nevertheless managed to throw the waiter a desperate look, wordlessly begging for help. The rough looking guy had frowned at him in confusion. There wasn’t enough time to do anything else.

And now the car finally stood still. Brian sighed and bit his lip, knowing that it couldn’t mean any good news. He clutched Nick’s cap a little tighter in his tied hands behind his back. A sure reminder that he was the cause of the younger boy’s premature death. He decided that he deserved everything that was coming to him.

 

He could hear people leaving the car and felt his heart speed up. Maybe, if he could manage to get to his feet by himself, he could do some sort of surprise attack and make a run for it. He’d just barge headfirst into the guy that opened the door, catching him off guard. Then he’d run off. He scoffed to himself. His days consisted of making little escape plans like this, and although he should know better by now, considering Nick had died because of it, he couldn’t help himself.

Not that the plans would ever work; the monsters were armed and would shoot him without a second of hesitation if he would try to escape. Just like they’d done to…

He whimpered at that memory, his eyes opening wide when the back door of the vehicle opened and bright daylight flooded through the opening. He squeezed his eyes shut at the intrusive light and the monster that had opened the door took this as his cue to reach forward and grab a hold of him. Brian could only yelp in protest, not able to struggle in his weak state. He’d barely eaten anything in the time he’d been taken from the golf course until now and the rough movements of the guy gripping a hold of him were dizzying him.

“God damnit, he looks terrible,” another monster said, and Brian had assumed early on that it was their leader. The guy was incredibly tall and strong built, even Q would be nothing against this mountain of muscle. Brian figured the captor would have been one hell of a bodyguard if he was on their side. The leader leaned closer to his face, sniffing in disgust, “I thought Backstreet Boys were supposed to be pretty,” he sneered with a condescending look, “Isn’t that kind of the whole idea?” He shook his head as he returned to his straightened standing position, towering far above all of them. “We can’t present him to the client like this, clean him up first.”

Brian stumbled as he tried to keep up with the two men shoving him forward across the small forest pass. His whole body shook in fear as he sank to his knees, unable to take another step.

“Get up, you little fucker!” A gruff voice grumbled, and Brian felt a heavy boot harshly connecting with his shoulder, “God, you’re such a pussy. You need to man up, kid! Gerald will know what to do with you.”

Brian decided not to say anything. With all his effort, he managed to get back to his feet, silently limping into the forest with the two monsters following directly behind him. They refrained from shoving him now, probably afraid he was going to collapse again. It took incredibly long to get to their destination and Brian knew that if he’d been in better shape, it would have taken only half as much time.

The stream was narrow and cold, but fairly clean. He groaned as one of the monsters cut the rope loose around his wrists. He pointed at his gun for good measure, making sure Brian wouldn’t get any ideas in his head now that his hands were free. His shoulders hurt from being stuck in position and he wouldn’t be surprised if one of them was dislocated after being bumped around in the car so much. The water was a welcome relief though. He felt it cleaning him, literally and figuratively. Solemnly, he dipped the filthy baseball cap under water, making sure he wasn’t only cleaning himself. God would have mercy on Nick, Brian was sure of it. It was the only thought that brought some solace to this agony.

“Here!” the monster with the gun called, throwing him a razor and some shaving cream. “Shave. You look disgusting.”

Brian smiled sadly to himself as he started to run the sharp blade across his cheek after smearing the cream over the five day old beard, remembering Kevin using the exact same words on Nick when the younger boy had decided that he would grow a beard, now that he finally could. Nick couldn’t have been more than fifteen back then and was for some reason so proud of puberty finally hitting him that he’d decided he would enjoy it in all its glory. But Kevin wasn’t their mother hen for nothing and when he decided that Nick should look presentable, he was going to frikkin look presentable.

Feeling the tears stinging behind his eyes, Brian bowed his head and took a shaky breath, realizing that Nick would never be bossed around by Kevin again. What he wouldn’t give to hear them fighting one more time, knowing they only fought because they cared about each other. What he wouldn’t give for that. A strangled cry escaped him before he could get himself under control. He felt the involuntary sobs slowly overtake him. The razor nicked his throat, but he wasn’t sure if it was accidentally or not. Either way, it didn’t really matter. He had to pay for his mistakes. Especially when those mistakes had giant consequences like this. He had to suffer. It was the only right thing left in this world now.


	7. 7. October 17th: Another Hit

October 17th

AJs foot tapped nervously against the clean tiles in the detective’s office. God, how he longed for a drink. Just one. It wouldn’t hurt anybody, right? He glanced at Nick’s form next to him, at the stoic expression on the young man’s face. That’s how he looked most of the time now. All innocence and goofiness were ripped out of him, leaving a serious, expressionless robot. He seemed to have aged twenty years in the past week, and AJ felt the knot in his stomach tightening at the thought of what his younger friend had been through.

“What are we even doing here?” he grumbled, “they already know everything, what more could they want from us?”

Nick shrugged slightly. The bruises on his face were healing at last, and soon, only the cast around his wrist would be able to remind others of the damage that had been done. “I’ll tell them every last one of my fucking secrets if that would mean they’ll get closer to finding Brian,” he said through gritted teeth.

AJ nodded, suddenly sober. He knew Nick felt responsible, guilty even, for escaping and leaving the other band member on his own. He felt bad for craving a drink when his friends were hurting so much worse than him. But dear Lord, he felt so useless. Two days ago, the police had found the cottage where Nick and Brian had been held at, completely abandoned now. Other than the filthy basement that fit to every bit of Nick’s excruciating descriptions, and some dried blood, there was not much to go on. The police had called it a breakthrough though. And of course, so did the media. The whole circus had started up again. Nick Carter had been found, only three days after being reported missing.

Assumptions were made on that fact.

Assumptions that it was all just one big publicity stunt for a band that struggled with their popularity nowadays. The more attention in the media, the better, right? It must have all been just one big joke. And although detective Morson had declared time after time, that it was serious, that real crime was involved, some people remained relentless. AJ couldn’t bear any more of the accusations that were constantly thrown at his head.

How could they? Did they not have any sense of shame?

Of course, only a small portion of people actually believed that they would just make up such a terrible thing, but that portion was by far the most vocal, the most aggressive. He’d had a lot of trouble getting to the police department this morning. People were standing in lines long enough to cover three miles in order to get some answers. Answers. Not autographs or pictures. Answers.

Stupid people. Stupid public life.

AJ sat a little more upright as the door to the main office opened and Kevin stepped out. The older man threw him a troubled look before sitting down without saying a word. AJ stared at him in confusion before looking up at the sound of the detective’s voice.

“Mr. McLean, if you will follow me?” the young sergeant said, stretching out an inviting hand into her office.

AJ nodded slightly before getting up, throwing one last glance at Kevin before he entered the office.

“Have a seat,” the detective offered, pointing at the chair across from her desk. AJ sat down on command, watching the officer with great interest, trying to determine what the woman wanted from him without saying any word. “You might wonder why we’ve beckoned you here,” Jessica Morson said with a friendly smile.

“I might,” AJ answered and realized he sounded a bit defensive. He’d been questioned over and over again since this whole thing had started. Questions had been asked, sure, and he’d answered them the best he could, without ever receiving answers himself. But he guessed that’s how it worked. Without proof, the police couldn’t tell him anything for certain, so they kept from saying anything at all.

“We would like to know if the name Daniel Emmery rings any bells?” Morson said, leaning forward across her desk expectantly.

There you had it again. That tiny bit of information that was supposed to miraculously make him reveal everything he knew. He frowned and shook his head, “Never heard of that name,” he grumbled, “Why?”

The detective looked at him for a few seconds before sighing and nodded, “Alright. As you may know, we’ve found the cottage in the woods two days ago.”

“Yeah,” AJ hesitated, “But there wasn’t anybody there.”

“No,” Morson agreed, “But there _were_ traces ofDNA there. Now the blood we found in the basement was mostly from your friends, but there was another hit.”

“The captor…” AJ said breathlessly.

“We suppose so. Fortunately, the person the DNA belonged to was in our database, because he has a criminal record. We can go from there.”

“S-So what do you need from us?” AJ asked uncertainly.

“We need you to think of any information that you may know Daniel Emmery from. Doesn’t matter how small or seemingly insignificant. Every small detail can make a difference in these kind of cases.”

“I can’t help you, I don’t know him. What does it matter? He’s probably just some lunatic that likes to cause people pain. And you’re just gonna sit here and confirm that fact when they’ve probably already thrown Brian in a ditch somewhere? You just need to get out there and find him!” AJ felt the anger surging in his pounding head, which usually happened after a rough day without the access to alcohol. And it was only eleven in the morning.

The detective frowned and cocked her head to the side, studying him. “Mr McLean, this morning we’ve gotten reports of people spotting Brian in three different states. Your friend is on the news everywhere. His face is recognizable throughout the whole country. We are doing all we can. We can’t just pull true facts out of thin air, this isn’t an action movie.”

AJ nodded, calming down a bit. It was irresponsible to just snap like that. The detective was doing all she could to help, he knew that, but God, it was just so frustrating. “Are you going to do anything with those reports?” he asked after thinking for a moment.

“Ah yes. Two of them were fairly non-descriptive. Vague notions that they might have seen someone that looked like… blah blah blah. The other one was a bit more clear however, included a picture even. Your friend Mr. Richardson already confirmed that it was indeed Brian.”

AJs eyes grew wide, “What? Why didn’t you say so before? Where was this? When?”

Morson sighed and shook her head, “You see, it’s not really much to go on. He was spotted at a bar in North Wisconsin with a few other guys. They were possibly heading north, but no one can say for sure. Those are just assumptions. The other men were all disguised in caps and hoodies. The only thing we can know for certain is that up until yesterday evening, your friend was still alive.”

For some strange reason, that brought an enormous sense of relief to AJs thoughts. If Brian was alive, that meant that they hadn’t beaten him to death right after Nick escaped. The youngest singer had been so scared of that. They all had. These people were dangerous, and every minute that Brian was with them made matters worse.

AJ decided he hated Daniel Emmery with every fiber of his being, even though he had never seen the guy in his life.

 

 


	8. 8. October 18th: Money

_October 16th_

Gerald Emmery took a deep breath when he heard the door creak open and threw the magazine he’d been reading back on the table. It was damn time they finally got here; the client was getting impatient.

The orders had seemed so simple in the beginning: take the blond Backstreet Boy.

Of course, taking anyone famous proved to be quite a challenge, but Gerald had gladly taken that challenge. It had been a while since he’d put real effort into his job. Then the frustration had begun when he and his brothers realized that there was not one, but two blond Backstreet Boys. But oh well, he would just take both then, so the client would have a choice.

Then Jacob had called and said one had escaped. Gerald had been livid, had yelled all the profanities he could think of at him and he was sure that if Jake had walked through the door right then, he would have beaten the shit out of his little brother. He hadn’t told the client about their little mishap yet and could only hope that they had the right blond one left.

God, if there wasn’t this amount of money involved…

Gerald knew that was a lie though. Although he often denied it, he knew he didn’t solely do it for the cash. His brothers did, that was for sure, but he found a strange, malicious kind of satisfaction whenever he delivered a package to a client. A strange sense of justification.

The men they took weren’t real men, that’s what Gerald had decided early on. They had no clue about how hard life really could be. They didn’t know anything about true survival, hadn’t been forced to use that animalistic instinct even once in their cozy lives. Gerald had, though; more than once even. He’d been a soldier, fighting for a country that was drowning in its own greediness. It had made him a bitter man, ruthless.

He watched the pathetic excuse of a man standing in front of him with a look of disgust. Pity. That’s what he took on him. The kid seemed ultimately dazed, a strange nothingness in his expression as he stared back at Gerald without showing any emotion whatsoever.

“Who drugged him?” Gerald grumbled without looking up. The young man had something mesmerizing about him. An unsettling kind of thing that made him stand out, a strange kind of… something.

“I did,” Jake said with an angry expression, “This one’s fierce, Ger, ‘s got sharp teeth too.”

A smile started to spread on Gerald’s face as he watched his younger brother clutch his lower arm with a pained look. So this scrawny kid had gotten the best of his brothers. Twice. “You’re out of shape, Jake, that’s why,” he smiled. “You’re not gonna cause any more trouble, are you?” he asked the young singer, who only stared back at him blankly. “Didn’t think so,” he answered his own question with a smile.

The boy looked utterly miserable and that’s what bothered Gerald a bit. At their lowest low, they didn’t struggle as much, they didn’t really give a damn anymore as to what was happening to them.

What was the fun in that? No, he liked them best when they beat up his little brothers, when they showed spirit, a will to fight.

“Take him to the attic,” he ordered, “Oh, and Jacob?”

“Hmm?”

“Don’t drug him again.”

 

**_Date: Unknown_ **

_I’m not sure what day it is, Nicky. I don’t even know if it’s day or night. All I know is that I’ve been in the attic for a long while. They’re leaving me alone, mostly, but I feel like I’m going insane. I don’t know what is worse; having those monsters around to hurt me, or having myself around to hurt me. We’re leaving tomorrow though. Daniel let it slip when he was bringing the food. He hates me._

_Good for him. I hate him too. He’s one of the reasons you’re dead._

_I can hear them talking, Nicky. They’re loud and shameless, but you already know that, you’ve experienced them first hand after all. They seem to take pleasure in destroying other people’s lives. Oh yes. I might be alone, but I can tell that there have been others here before me. The attic has secrets, Frack. Terrible secrets. I wonder if anyone has ever died in here._

_I’m okay though, don’t worry about me, alright? You never have to worry about anything ever again, alright? I’m still praying. Nothing special, really. I’m not praying for freedom, or release. I’m praying for forgiveness. You weren’t supposed to die this young, Nicky, that’s on me. And I will always know that it’s my fault. I should have gone with you to protect you. I should have at least died with you there, in the woods._

_I was a fool, naïve and selfish, and I wish I could take it back._

_They’re coming upstairs, Nicky, I can hear them. Perhaps we’re already leaving. Perhaps it’s been hours, I cannot tell the time. I’ll talk to you later, okay? I promise._

_October 19 th_

Brian clutched the baseball cap tightly in his fists and waited. The sound of footsteps was coming closer and he pressed himself further into the corner, hurriedly securing the cap onto his head. The door opened and lighted flooded into the dark attic. He narrowed his eyes, feeling a spark of pain shooting through his head. By now, he was pretty certain that he had a concussion.

“Get up!” A roaring voice barked, stamping towards him with an angry look, “Turn around!”

Brian struggled to comply. It had been days since he’d used his legs, and they were shaky and unstable. He felt like crumbling to the ground, only to notice a firm hand catching him before he could do so,

“I said, turn around…” the voice said threateningly.

“Hold on, hold on,” Brian mumbled, his voice grittier that he remembered.

“Shut up!” the man snarled. Although he was wearing the animal mask, Brian could tell it was Daniel. He wasn’t particularly afraid of Daniel. Sure, the guy was violent and huge, but he was also predictable. He knew that Daniel would like nothing more than to strangle him, but that he couldn’t.

Because Danny boy didn’t call the shots.

There were three of them, five if you counted the monsters that had set out to kill Nick. But those two were only there if travelling needed to be done. The three that stayed were brothers, Brian presumed. The oldest, Gerald, was their leader, and by far the most intimidating. Brian could tell that he took great pleasure in causing fear and dread in other people.

 And Jake, well Jake was hard to read. Although he wasn’t as inflammable as the youngest of the brothers, Brian knew that he was just aching for inflicting a good amount of injuries on his victims. He shivered at that idea.

He flinched as Daniel pulled his arms behind his back, jostling his sore shoulder into an unwanted position. He felt the rope being wrapped around his hands tightly. Eventually, Daniel turned him around to face the door, where Gerald and Jacob were leaning against the wall. A small smile played on Gerald’s lips as he looked at his hostage.

“There, there. All set, aren’t we?” he grumbled, slowly stepping closer with a cat-like graze, so unlike the rest of his appearance. Brian involuntarily felt himself take a step back, only to be stopped by the big man behind him. There was something utterly frightening about Gerald’s behavior and Brian wanted nothing more than to run away. “You’re a brave kid, Brian,” Gerald smiled, “You’re different from what you appear to be, I really like that.”

Brian felt his muscles tensing when Gerald reached out a hand to touch him. He thought of all the things he wanted to scream, but couldn’t do anything else but stare in fear as the hand softly touched his cheek. His angered breathing hitched in his throat as the hand went further and took the cap from his head. It took all he had in him to refrain from lashing out.

“Ahh yes, poor Nickolas,” Gerald smiled sadly, solemnly holding the torn cap at eye level, “It’s a shame really. I know he meant a lot to you.”

Brian felt his face scrunch up in anger, but kept himself from saying a word. Gerald looked at him, disappointed. “What is it, Bri? Did you lose your tongue?” He smiled maliciously as he put the cap back on his victim’s head and nodded, “This way he’ll be always with you. That’s the idea, right?”

The monster’s hand lingered close to his face and the smile faltered on his face. There was a strange kind of hunger in his eyes that scared Brian to his very core. A few seconds, everything was motionless and he could only hear his heart pounding wildly in his chest, his rasping, panicked breathing escaping his closed up throat. “You’re beautiful, Brian.”

Brian whimpered softly as Gerald moved closer, the monster’s face only inches from his own. Gerald leaned forward, his lips touching his captive’s ear. “We’re leaving.”

He choked out his breath, his eyes wide open as his knees buckled. Gerald moved back and laughed. He heard the other two snicker as well. Gerald shook his head in amusement and sighed. “Alright kids, we have more to do. Make sure we’re ready to leave as soon as possible. If we want that money, we have to be there on time.”

Brian didn’t move as he felt himself being dragged out of the attic. He barely noticed anything as they carried him roughly down the stairs. He didn’t protest when they eventually threw him into the back of the SUV again.

So it was about money after all.

And they were going to go and get it.

That meant he would be free soon, right?


	9. 9. October 19th: Action

October 19th  
  
He dreamt he was running. The woods were dark and wet and endless. The branches scraping his face as he shoved past them without thinking. The ground was unstable, causing him to slip with every step he took.  
  
He could hear their voices, heard them yelling through the darkness of the forest. They were chasing him, with their guns and weapons and their animal masks.   
  
They were going to kill him. He had never been so sure about something in his entire life and it frightened him to no end. So he kept running, knowing that the monsters would have as much trouble finding their way through the narrow forest as he had.   
  
Suddenly, he felt the baseball cap on his head getting caught in the branches above his head and he stumbled before falling. His hands hit something hard and cold.   
  
Tarmac.  
  
In the woods?  
  
He looked up, feeling a sob of relief coming up. The highway was long, a few cars flying past as he watched on his hands and knees. A giant truck honked its horn before riding right past him. He scrambled back in shock. The large vehicle stopped at the side of the road, the door opening before a guy jumped out.  
  
With an animal mask and a gun.  
  
  
Nick screamed, sitting straight up in bed immediately.  
  
It took a while to remember where he was. The room was dimly lit, mostly because he didn’t like the dark. He panted, trying to untangle his feet from the bed sheets wrapped around his legs.   
  
Ever since he got back, he hadn’t been able to get a full night’s sleep. It was the price he paid, he supposed. It was choosing between living with the remainder of fear, or being dead. Would it always be this way? Would it ever get better? It was hard to say; it had, after all, only been five days.  
  
Five days since he got back. Five days of having people look at him as if he was some ghost. Five days of being treated like a frikking piece of china. Five nights of terror.   
  
He wondered if Brian had nightmares like this. He wondered if Brian ever got to go to sleep at all.   
  
He looked at the clean sheets of his bed, at the glass of water on the night stand the pills next to it that helped him to fall asleep in the first place.   
  
Disgusting.  
  
How could he have all this while one of his best friends was still in trouble? How could he let them take care of him when they didn’t know anything about what he was going through? They didn’t understand what had happened, not really. He felt like some part of him was still lost, like he still wasn’t clear out of danger. Like some part was still right there next to Brian. He hadn’t escaped, not really. And he wouldn’t be able to until he had Brian back.   
  
Survivor’s guilt, that’s what the therapist called it.   
  
Nick had scoffed, but thinking about it now, it seemed accurate. The doctor had made it sound like Brian was dead though, and that hadn’t been sitting well with Nick exactly. He knew his friend lived, had seen the picture the police had showed him. He had felt like he could breathe again for the first time in days. It had taken him a moment to be able to identify Brian, but once he could, there was no doubt about it.  
  
The picture haunted him. He could see it whenever he closed his eyes. It was blurry and rushed and dark, but it was Brian. Nick knew it was. He recognized the clothes, the face, the cap.  
  
That had been his cap. He’d thought he’d lost it in the woods. Strange.  
  
He stumbled downstairs and turned on the lights. He shivered, grabbing one of the pillows from the couch and pressed it against his chest as he sank down. It was moments like these that made him glad that he lived alone. Although it had taken some effort to convince everyone that he would be just fine by himself, he was glad it worked. He didn’t need people hovering over him, he needed them to go out and find Brian. It was the only thing he felt that helped him: knowing that there were people out there looking for his friend. As long as people kept looking, he couldn’t be gone.  
  
After a few minutes of staring aimlessly ahead, he turned on the TV. It was almost morning, it was no use to try and go back to sleep. There wasn’t much else on than reruns of Friends, and Nick nodded his approval as he leaned back to watch the sitcom. Although the series felt awfully superficial now, he decided that a little bit of comedy was more than welcome in times like these.  
  
A loud sound from the hall made him jump violently in shock. His eyes widened and his knuckles turned white as he squeezed the pillow tightly. He shook with fear, trying to swallow the lump in his throat as he felt his heart beat loudly in his ears. He bit his bottom lip, trying to figure out what he was supposed to do.  
  
They were coming for him.  
  
He thought about hiding behind the furniture for a minute, but then decided that he would show courage and stood up on unsteady legs. He wouldn’t hide anymore, he would fight, and if he lost, at least he would be able to keep Brian company.  
  
Yes, that seemed like the best solution.   
  
Tiptoeing to the edge of the living room, he grabbed hold of one of the metal fireplace stokers and turned off the lights. He squeezed his eyes closed for a second, trying to rake up some leftover courage as he walked over to the hallway, hugging the wall all the way over there. He frowned when he saw that the hall lights were on. He took a deep breath, pulling the stoker to his chest as he counted to five.  
  
“Waah!” he yelled as he jumped into the hallway with his weapon ready.   
  
“Aaaah!” the intruder screamed and dropped the box he was holding to the ground, spilling the contents over the tiles.  
  
  
“AJ! What the flying fuck!” Nick exclaimed, the stoker still in his hands, ready to strike.  
  
AJ held up his hands in defense, “Dude! Drop it! You’re almost poking my eye out!”  
  
“What the hell are you doing here? I thought you were…” Nick trailed off.  
  
“You’re paranoid, Nick.”  
  
Nick looked at him, still shocked, “It’s six a.m. and you’re breaking into my house, that’s not paranoia, AJ, that’s common sense!”  
  
“Fine, fine,” Alex relented, taking a step back, “Just lower the weapon, okay?”  
  
“Oh,” Nick mumbled, realizing he was still holding the sharp piece of metal. He lowered it, setting it against the wall. “What are you doing here?”  
  
“Alright, alright, if you must know,” AJ grumbled, sitting down on the base of the staircase, “I’m going crazy at home, man. There’s people everywhere.”  
  
“Yeah, no shit,” Nick muttered, shaking his head as he went to sit next to his friend, “How’d you even get in here?”  
  
“I have a key.”  
  
“Oh yeah,” Nick nodded. He remembered. Kevin had been so anxious to leave him alone that Nick had to swear to give everyone he trusted a pair of spare keys to his house. Just in case, Kevin had said. Like that would help anyone.  
  
Apparently it helped AJ. Nick didn’t really know what it was about him, but AJ seemed different, nervous.   
  
More than usual, anyway. “Why’d you come here?”  
  
“I don’t know, man. I feel like I’m going insane. Like I’m barely holding it together,” AJ whispered, staring straight ahead. “I just… don’t feel like being alone now.”   
  
Nick nodded; he could relate. He didn’t really know what AJ had gone through in rehab, but it had changed him. For the better, he supposed. He was more open now, willing to speak about what was going on in his head.   
  
He often was an open book, really. He’d tell you exactly what he thought, whether you liked it or not.   
  
When Nick didn’t directly react, AJ continued to spill his guts, “I mean, what if- and I’m not trying to scare anyone here- but what if we never find him? What if he’s just one of those people that disappear one day and never come back? Happens all the time, doesn’t it? I mean, they haven’t asked for ransom, they haven’t contacted us at all. What if we never see him again?”  
  
Nick bit his lip and looked down. AJ had just spoken all the fears he’d hidden deep inside out loud. He sighed, “I don’t know,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “T-they didn’t seem like the type of people that would ask ransom, if that’s what you’re talking about.”  
  
AJ finally looked at him, “No… no, I’m sorry. I’m always bringing everyone down. It’s just a character trait of mine, I guess.”  
  
Nick smiled sadly, “Doesn’t matter.”  
  
“How’d you sleep?”  
  
“Fantastic.”  
  
“Right, that’s why you were up at six a.m., fully dressed and everything,” AJ scoffed softly.  
  
“Look, it’s not something you can help me with, alright? I’ll be fine.”  
  
AJ nodded, letting the silence continue for a few seconds before he spoke, “Like you would ever tell anyone if you weren’t fine.”  
  
“It’s not the point. We have more important things to worry about,” Nick grumbled, getting up and walking towards the living room.  
  
“Well, it’s not going to help him if you go ahead and self-destruct!” AJ called, coming after him.  
  
“Don’t use that against me, AJ. It’s not going to help him, no matter what I do. Don’t you think I understand that?” Nick sighed, flopping down on the couch.  
  
“So what are you gonna do then? Sit on your ass and wait for news?”  
  
“What else is there?”  
  
“Dude! We haven’t even tried to find anything out by ourselves!” AJ exclaimed, throwing up his arms.  
  
“What do you mean? Aside from the police?”  
  
“Yeah! I mean, we’re the freaking Backstreet Boys, aren’t we? We have like, an entire army of fans on the lookout! Why are we not doing anything ourselves?”


	10. October 20th: Friend

_Date: October 20 th_

He stared at an empty spot on the wall, trying to make the room stop spinning. His head felt like it was too heavy, too stuffed. He blinked, barely seeing anything in the dark. A nauseous feeling was nagging his stomach. His hands feeling like they would fall off any minute in this tied up position. He didn’t know what they gave him, but it made him dizzy, and tired and he just wanted to sleep. Forever.

He thought about his wife, and the hell she must be going through. And his friends, and family. God… how was he ever going to explain this to his mother? He wondered if they’d found Nick’s body by now. Would they be able to tell what happened? Probably not. Nick was probably doomed to rot away there in those woods.

How was he going to explain any of it?

Two days ago, he thought he was going to be free. He thought they were going to collect the money and just drop him off.

 They did collect money. And they did drop him off. But this wasn’t home, this wasn’t what he’d expected. He hadn’t been able to see the person that took him. No, they made sure he was blindfolded. Oh, the mystery. And now, two days later, he was left behind in a stinky and vaporous basement. He’d been sold like a fucking piece of cattle.

Oh, the mystery indeed.

“Ah, so you’ve decided to wake up,” A deep voice said softly and he turned around in shock. He hadn’t even noticed anyone coming in. The man was careful to keep himself hidden in the shadows, carefully observing his prisoner. He was tall, but that was about the only thing Brian could tell. “You know, I was getting a bit worried.”

There was something utterly frightening about the man’s voice. A deep, hissing grumble that caused goose bumps to appear out of nowhere. “What do you want from me?” Brian asked, well aware of how tired he sounded.

The man snickered in the dark, “You don’t have to worry, dear,” he said, “I’m a friend.”

“Yes, because I too throw my tied up friends into a basement and let them rot for two days,” Brian hissed, immediately regretting his words after he spoke them. The man remained quiet for a while and just when Brian started to believe he had left, a scraping sound across the floor made a shiver run down his spine. His eyes went wide, his stomach grumbling viciously as the smell of spaghetti invaded his nose. He swallowed as he eyed the plate longingly.

“You hungry?” the deep voice asked patiently.

Brian stiffened, staring into the darkness, trying to discover anything that looked like a human being in the shadows of the dark basement, “No,” he lied, immediately feeling a stab in his stomach that told the actual truth; that he hadn’t eaten in over three days. And not much before that either.

He was starving.

“Very well,” the voice sighed, “Whenever you feel like spaghetti, just give a yell, alright?”

Brian frowned, the smell of spaghetti almost driving him insane, “What the hell do you want from me?”

A snicker in the dark, soft, reserved. “I want you to eat my spaghetti. I made it myself and it’s quite delicious, if I may say so. Not to worry, I haven’t done anything funny with it.”

A strange tone in the man’s voice made the hairs on the back of Brian’s neck rise. He shivered, trying to get rid of the terrifying feeling that was starting to take over. There was something very much wrong with this guy. “I-I’m not hungry, but… thanks.”

“Bullshit!” His capturer spat viciously and Brian shrunk back in shock. “I have made this dinner for you. You shouldn’t be ungrateful! Eat it!”

“Alright, alright,” Brian rushed shakily, “I’m sorry.”

“Close your eyes.”

“What? Wh-why?”

A sudden searing pain in his shoulder made him lose his balance and he fell on his side. He screamed as the burning sensation coursed through his arm, back to his shoulder. He felt the tears starting to form in the corner of his eyes and he squeezed them shut, in the hope to block out the pain and the fear and the smell of spaghetti.

“Always close your eyes when I tell you to close your eyes. Remember that rule,” the voice hissed right beside him, though he didn’t dare to open his eyes now that the man was next to him.

He tried to get his panicked breathing under control, knowing that he was failing miserably, “What do you want from me?” he choked, his voice breaking. “Just let me go, please. Just let me go. I won’t tell anyone. Just… please.”

The man laughed softly, “Oh no. I did not pay good money for you, just to let you go free. That would be strange now, wouldn’t it?”

He felt the tears slide down as his shoulder started throbbing in earnest. He kept his eyes firmly shut, feeling the man move behind him and freezing as the monster’s hands touched his own. “You want money?” He rushed quickly, stumbling over the words, “I’ve got money. You can have it. Just let me go.”

“Do I seem like somebody that needs money?” the voice grumbled menacingly behind him.

“I dunno. I can’t really see,” Brian mumbled to himself.

A fierce yank on his hurt arm caused him to gasp for air. He realized quickly that he had never been this scared. Not when they’d first thrown him into a basement. Not when he jumped the guy at the top of the stairs to let Nick escape. Not even when he’d realized that they were going to kill his young friend. There was something so utterly frightening about the figure that was fidgeting with the rope around his tied hands.

“Never talk back at me,” the voice growled threateningly. “Remember this, Brian. You are mine now. And I will never let you go. Nobody will ever find you here. You are mine now.” Finally, the rope around his wrists slipped loose and Brian moaned as another flash of pain shot through his shoulder.

“Now eat.”

He didn’t move. Not when the man was standing in front of him. Not when the footsteps slowly walked away. Not when he was certain that he was alone. He didn’t move, curled up in a ball, keeping his eyes shut and trying not to think about what the monster had said.

 

He was not a friend. 


	11. November 10th - Dreams

_November 10th_

_In my dreams, I will be running through the dark woods, towards an abandoned cabin that would take way too long to reach. I would feel appalled to go inside, but I would do it anyway. The fear would twist inside me, trying to take over. I will reach the door to the basement, out of breath, panting like I’ve run the freaking marathon. I will yank the door open and stare into the darkness._

_I will see him lying there._

_I will storm down the basement’s stairs, falling to my knees beside him as I cry out. I would hug his limp body close to my own. I’d try to revive him in any way I can think off. I would scream for him to wake up. I would beg him not to do this to me. I would stomp my fists into his chest, ignoring the cold stiffness of his body._

_It would never work._

_In my dreams, Brian would have the color of death. In my dreams, there was no movement, no stirring, no signs of life. In my dreams, I would scream and cry and I would ultimately know that I am alone in that basement, that my cousin isn’t breathing and never will be again. In my dreams, the monsters have destroyed the one that I had sworn to protect._

_And with each day that passes, that nightmare may become an all too real reality._

_I would wake up, drenched in sweat and screaming in fear and grief. Kristin would try to comfort me, try to convince me that everything would be okay, but I can see the same fear in her eyes too. It has been quiet for over three weeks, and the world seems to be moving on slowly._

_I don’t think I can do that._

_Publicly, the story has turned into a mystery, a legend. I remember AJ walking up to me a few days ago with the most disgusted expression on his face I’ve ever seen. He threw a paper on the conference table and I remember the struggle to keep from jumping up in anger when I saw the caption: Where’s Waldo, with a picture of Brian underneath it._

_Was this what it had come down to? Was our misery slowly turning into a joke now?_

_The remainder of the band came together like nothing was different. We spoke about the future, we talked about our lives. But deep down we all knew that there was nothing to talk about, except maybe the gigantic elephant in the room we were trying to avoid with all our might._

_That there was no future. Even if he did come back, it would never be like it had been before. And I think that scared us the most. We are growing restless, impatient. The raw feelings of loss slowly pushing the belief of finding him away. Because the longer one remains missing, the bigger the chances of never finding them. Not alive anyway._

_I can’t think beyond that. The emotions are too great, the wounds too fresh. I could only think of the world tour we had to finish. The contracts we had to abide. The gigantic amount of pressure we were receiving from our sponsors and music label. I could deal with them. I could tell them to go to hell and it would feel great. But I couldn’t deal with seeing Brian’s family slowly being destroyed by fear and grief._

_So I didn’t._

_I haven’t heard from the police in nearly two weeks. Last thing I heard was they were trying to locate Daniel Emmery for questioning. The guy is as MIA as Brian though, so that didn’t work out. I know that they’re still looking though. They said they got leads. The investigation is going awfully slow, but at least it’s going. I try to hold on to little things like that. I know the others do too. As long as there is a little bit of hope left, I will not give up. He’s out there, I know it. I would feel it if he wasn’t. I don’t know what they’re doing to him, I don’t know how he’s holding up, but I refuse to believe we will never see him again._

Kevin looked up, reviewing the personal letter he’d written. He’d heard that it helped to write about things that were bothering you. He knew it did. He’d always done it. He wouldn’t let anyone read it, it was more like a diary. A way to express yourself without having to actually say anything out loud. He sighed, watching the clock. Every second that passed by felt like a century. At the same time, it was almost three weeks since anyone had seen Brian alive. Time moved slow, but so fast. Too fast. He leaned back in the desk chair, rubbing his forehead as he stared up at the ceiling. The house was quiet, at peace. So unlike anything he was feeling inside.

He froze for a second when he heard the phone, then rolled his eyes. Everyone had been calling him continuously; detectives, managers, bandmates, family, reporters and even some fans that had miraculously figured out his house phone number.

He contemplated if he should pick up at all. Kristin was downstairs, she would probably do it. As if on cue, his wife opened the door to the study and handed him the phone with a solemn expression.

“Morson,” she said flatly.

Kevin nodded and took the phone as Kristin moved to in front of him, gesturing to put the phone on speaker, “Hello?” he asked.

“Mr. Richardson?” Detective Jessica Morson asked sternly.

“Speaking.”

“We need you to come down to the office. As soon as possible.”

“Why?” Kevin replied tiredly. He’d been up and down the office ever since the investigation had started. He’d provided them with every bit of information he could possibly think of, most of which seemed pretty irrelevant at this point.

“I rather not discuss this over the telephone, Mr. Richardson,” the young detective answered with a sigh.

“Isn’t the station closed at this time?” Kevin asked with a frown.

“Technically, but this is considered an emergency.”

His frown deepened and he saw Kristins eyes watching him in concern, “What happened?”

“We have been able to intercept a videotape that was sent to you and your management. We believe it has to do with our investigation.”

“Brian?”

“Yes.”

“Have you watched it?”

“Not yet.”

“What is it?”

“I rather not discuss that over the phone. We have called your management and the other band members. We would like to inform you personally at the office.”

Kevin sighed in frustration. He often appreciated the professionalism that Morson expressed, but when things like this were the topic, he’d rather she just came down to the point. “I’ll be on my way.”


	12. November 12th: Vertigo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks so much for the comments so far! I've just started writing here and it really means so much! I hope you don't mind my horrible english sometimes (I'm Dutch :) )

_November 12 th_

The tape was too dark to actually see anything but shadows. The sound quality was awful and the total recording time was two and a half minutes. AJ hadn’t really been able to decipher anything that had been said on the tape, couldn’t for the life of him discern the dark shadows that were supposed to be people. But he’d heard one thing clear as a bell.

The harsh cry of pain.

It was Brian. No doubt about it. He’d felt his heart sink to his stomach when he’d heard it. He felt like throwing up, like screaming out. He hadn’t wanted to watch any further, but for some reason, he couldn’t keep his eyes off of the tv-set in the detective’s office. He had been warned. Had been told that these types of videos were often not very pleasant to watch.

Well, that was an understatement.

He’d seen Nick’s face drain of all color when he too heard Brian’s outcry. It sounded strange; his voice seemed different. Deeper, and hoarser than anything that AJ had ever heard coming out of Brian’s mouth before. But it was his voice nonetheless.

After watching, or rather, after listening, AJ was glad that he hadn’t been able to actually see anything. The knot in his stomach was tightening whenever he thought about what it could possibly mean to hear Brian scream like that. And why was it taped in the first place? Why did these monsters bother to send a videotape to them? The police classified it as sadism. A preference for inflicting pain on others.

A psychopath.

The investigation was in full process again. The main focus was to discover and retrace the origin of the video. AJ had seen movies about this. They didn’t usually end very well. He knew he should be glad to know that his friend was alive, but instead the fear had ten folded.

They were hurting him.

It was all he could think about, it was consuming his thoughts. He could feel his blood boiling, his heart racing and his breath hitching whenever he thought about the fact that there were people out there that were holding his friend against his will, and deliberately caused him pain. And now that it was confirmed that that was indeed the case, AJ felt like he was going insane as the anger kept building up inside him. He wanted to scream and to throw things. He wanted to break down. He wanted a drink.

A drink for every hour that it was clear that there wasn’t a goddamn thing in the world that he could do about this situation. Did anyone honestly think he was going to be strong in this hell and decide to stay sober and level-headed? How did the others handle this? Weren’t they angry? Weren’t they on the brink of just throwing everything overboard and take matters into their own hands?

And if he ever found the people who did this, he swore to himself, he would make them suffer for what they had done.

 

 

_Date: unknown._

_I don’t know anymore, Nicky. It’s kind of curious, isn’t it? I don’t know what time it is. I don’t know how much time has passed since the time I did know. I don’t know where I am. I don’t even remember how I got here. My thoughts are cloudy, at best. I think_ he’s _been drugging my water, but I’m not entirely sure. My shoulder has swollen to three times its size, but I don’t feel it anymore._

_I’m okay, Nicky, you don’t have to worry about me._

_I still have your baseball cap, though. It’s the one thing_ he _hasn’t been able to take from me._ He’s _got everything else._ He’s _got most of my clothes,_ he’s _got my watch,_ he _even got my hair. But I succeeded in defending your cap. It’s mine. Not_ his _._

_I think a bath would be nice though. Just the feel of warm water, of clean soap. It stinks in here, Frack. I know I am mostly responsible for that, but you can do only so much when you’re confined to a basement that’s five by three. God, I wanna go home. I just want to go home. So bad. I want to hold my wife close to me and sleep for a month. Because I’m tired, Nick, I’m so tired. And I know I sound like an old man, but I just want to go home._

_Is that too much to ask?_

_I fear for the moment_ he _comes in again._ He _treats me like I’m his fucking toy. He owns me, he says. Like you can just go out and buy people. These aren’t the 1800’s anymore. You can’t just seize people from the street and call them yours. I guess he didn’t get that memo. I hate him, Frack, and I’m so glad you never had to meet him. The sick bastard._

_I’m glad he can’t hurt you. I’m glad no one can hurt you anymore. He uses me as he pleases, he’s violent, Nicky, he’s dangerous. But he’ll never get to touch you. I just want to go home._

Startled, Brian looked up, his nerves on edge as he slowly got to his feet, putting the baseball cap back on his head. Ignoring the sudden vertigo that hit him, he shuffled to the corner furthest from the door. The basement was dark and one of these days, he wished, he would be able to go up into the pitch black shadows on the walls. Unnoticed. Just, merging together, fading away. He felt a dull throb in his shoulder, but had long since learnt not to pay attention to the dislocated joint. He’d tried everything to get it back into its socket, he’d screamed bloody murder from the pain that it had caused, and had eventually decided to just let it be. It hurt, but it was a bearable pain for now.

He listened, his ears straining to hear the muffled sounds coming from behind the door. _Just go away,_ he whispered, _just leave me alone._ He kept stepping backwards until his back hit the wall. Biting into his bottom lip, he sank down, trying to curl up as small as possible. Shaking, he waited. He tried not to remember the things that had happened last time _he_ had come. He still couldn’t believe the things that hehad put him through.

The monster liked pain. Pain made you stronger, he would say. Brian didn’t care. He tried to forget, wishing he could block everything out. Disgusted, he stared at his filthy hands, looking at the broken nails, the bloodied fingertips, realizing the physical abuse was not the worst.

There was something, something he couldn’t even start to think about. Something unspeakable. Something so disgusting he wanted to bury it forever. It didn’t happen. No. It just didn’t.

He inhaled sharply when the door finally opened, a beaming light flooding through the dusty darkness. Brian could only see _his_ silhouette and felt his stomach begin to churn in anxiety. He didn’t have anything to throw up, knowing his food was scarce and a true treasure when it did come. Maybe, he thought, he would eventually die of starvation… or infection. Either would be fine.

“There you are!” the voice rasped, echoing in the small, silent basement. “You know, for a moment there, I didn’t see you. Nice hiding spot.”

Taking a deep breath, Brian felt his whole body shaking with fear. Somehow, this person had managed to imprint the biggest fear he had ever felt for something. He felt like throwing up again. Slowly uncurling himself, he got back on his feet, heavily leaning against the wall for support. He didn’t know how much longer he could stand it. And it hadn’t even begun yet. In a flash of a second, the monster was standing next to him and grabbed his arm. Too weak to struggle or fight back, Brian let himself be dragged to the basement stairs.

“Get on your knees,” the voice sneered. “Hands behind your back.”

He did what he was told, knowing that the more obedient he was, the sooner it would be over. He bit his lip to keep from crying out when he felt a sharp pain in his shoulder as the monster tied his hands together.

“Alright, let’s go.”

Stumbling up the stairs, Brian kept his head down, somehow making it to the top without too many troubles. The monster opened the door and Brian blinked from the light that invaded his eyesight. After pushing him through the door, the monster handed him a glass with water. “Drink, you look terrible.”

Brian shook his head slightly, still looking at the floor. There was something in the water, he was sure of it. Something that made his head feel all fuzzy and weird. Something that manipulated his thoughts, his memories. The monster grabbed his wounded arm and he cried out in pain. Without a word, the monster offered the water again. Shaking in earnest now, Brian accepted it, the water spilling from the glass as he held it in his trembling hands. The monster gave him a disapproving look.

“You are weak. Pathetic. Have I not taught you anything?”

Brian didn’t say anything, careful not to make eye-contact. That would set the beast off, he knew that. It was like looking at a gorilla; you weren’t supposed to look straight at them, it made them angry.

                The monster shook his head when he received no reply and grabbed Brian’s good arm again, dragging him further with him. “We’re going to do something different this time,” he announced cheerfully, grabbing something from the table as they entered the small room. “Smile, Brian,” he beamed, shoving the camera into his prisoner’s face. “This one goes out to your friends.”

 


	13. 13. November 22nd - Fingers

_Date: unknown_

He took a shuddering breath, squeezing his eyes closed. The monster was circling around him.

Like a vulture.

He tried to stay calm, which he managed to do better and better the more he ended up here. There was going to be pain; that was a certainty that he could hold onto. He’d somehow grown used to the exquisite torture that was bestowed upon him everytime the monster came down to get him. He would get hit, kicked, sometimes even cut, but it was alright. It didn’t mean anything.

Why should he care?

The ever-present camera was shoved in his face and he stared back at it. He wasn’t scared anymore. He vaguely remembered the days he’d been trembling like crazy whenever he came here, but that was over. Now… he just didn’t care anymore. What was there left to lose?

The monster seemed to notice it as well, as the usual grin faltered slightly when he withdrew the camera. The monster studied him for a minute, contemplating the lifeless figure in front of him, bound to the filthy chair that had been used so many times before. Brian’s fear usually brought an odd kind of satisfaction, but this time, it wasn’t there.

Had he broken his toy?

Brian refused to look at him and it angered him slightly, but at the same time, the signal was quite exciting. Maybe it was time for something new? He stared at the knife he’d been holding, thought for a second, then put it away. Kneeling in front of his captive, he smiled, and waited. It didn’t take long before the prisoner lifted his head and looked at him.

“What are their names, Brian?” he asked in a low, gravelly voice.

He’d asked the question every single time he’d brought the kid upstairs. Brian knew who he meant, he always answered eventually. The question usually came at the end of their session together though, not at the start, and the monster saw a flash of confusion in the eyes of his prisoner. The boy clenched his jaw and looked up at him, his spirit seemingly renewed.

“You know their names,” Monster whispered, close to his captive’s face, “We’ll get there eventually, won’t we?”

Brian narrowed his eyes and swallowed thickly, feeling a spark of the old familiar fear rushing through him. The camera was on his face again, but he didn’t pay it any attention. He tried to shrink back, to be as small as possible in the creaking chair that held him captive. His shoulder was throbbing, a whining pain that never seemed to go away. He was sick and weak and wouldn’t be able to escape even if the moment presented itself. He watched with apprehension as the monster turned around, rummaging through the tools on the table. He usually didn’t use anything other than a knife.

 

“You know, I thought we’d do something different today,” Monster mumbled with his back turned towards his prisoner, “Maybe that will return some of the respect I suspect you’ve lost.”

Brian’s eyes grew slightly bigger when the monster turned back to face him. His feet scraped uselessly against the ground, trying to scuffle back as much as possible. “What are y-?”

“Shh,” Monster hushed, grinning wickedly. “This is a trick I learnt back in the navy. Remember how I told you the ways we used to interview prisoners?”

Brian let his eyes fly around the dark room, the terrible feeling of impending pain choking him. He nodded stiffly, trying to keep his breathing somewhat under control. The monster was moving again, the camera circling around the chair, the knife inches from Brian’s head. The young singer closed his eyes when the monster stopped moving, bracing himself for the first onslaught of pain.

With one simple move, the ropes around his hands were cut loose. He gasped, falling forward slightly as the pressure on his arms was removed. A strong hand stopped him and he stared up into the monsters dark eyes. The promise of pain and trauma was evident in his gaze and Brian remained frozen on his chair.

“What are their names?” The monster grumbled again.

“I don’t-” Brian whispered softly, a stab of confusion grabbing hold of his scrambled memories.

“Give me your hand,” Monster demanded, grabbing Brian’s hand roughly before he could do anything. “You see, in the army,” he began, taking firm hold of one of the fingers, “we used certain techniques to ‘persuade’ people.”

Brian, suddenly very aware of what was going to happen, tried to hold back a sob, “Please, please don’t…”

“Your last chance, Brian. Give me a name.”

“I-I don’t, please…  please, I’m not s-”

The pain was overwhelming as he felt his finger snap and breaking. He screamed, yelling one of the names the monster had been asking for. His captor smiled, moving his grip to another finger, “Very good. That’s my boy. Give me another one, come on.’’

 

 

_November 22 nd _

“Howie!”

Howard felt the bile rising in his throat and he gagged. The eyes in the small office slowly turned to stare at him. Over the past two weeks, multiple tapes had been sent to their name. None of which had any clear footage when it came to understanding what was going on in the videos. But today was different. The video was clearer, showing more than just the black and white, blurry pictures that Howie had been expecting.

He could make out a dark room, with someone sitting in a chair. Admitted, it took Howie a long while before he figured out it was his bandmate. He’d drawn a shocked breath when he came to that conclusion. There was almost nothing left of the Brian as he’d seen him the last time. This man looked creepily thin and ill and awfully lifeless. The camera had circled around him, showing the way the young man had been tied to the chair, unable to move. He’d known right then that he didn’t want to watch the video, but couldn’t keep his eyes off of it all the while.

He’d seen the fear in Brian’s face grow as the muffled conversation between him and the one that held the camera continued. Howie couldn’t make out what they were talking about until the camera got closer to the chair.

“Your last chance, Brian, Give me a name.”

Howie had felt his heart speed up as he saw the desperation and confusion in his friend’s eyes as the younger man tried to think of a name. “I-I don’t, please…  please, I’m not s-,” he whimpered softly, squirming in the chair.

There was a moment of anticipation before Howie heard something snap and Brian screamed in pain, yelling Howie’s name. He jumped up, his hand flying to his mouth as he ran out of the office and into the toilets. He threw up the lunch he’d been having just thirty minutes earlier, all the while Brian’s painfilled mention of his name ringing in his ears.

He stumbled back into the office, excusing himself softly as he sat back down. The video had ended and he felt the others staring at him expectantly. He could see the anger and shock radiating from their faces, mirroring his own feelings. There had been a time he’d thought Brian to be dead. People disappeared and never came back; it happened. It would be hard, but with a lot of support and therapy, he figured that maybe he’d be able to deal with it.

And then the videos had started. It was a taunting, challenging way of sadism. The monster responsible for the videos was causing pain and desperation on not only his prisoner, but also on the people that cared about him. It was the maximal amount of hurt with the minimal amount of effort. The police department had a hard time trying to find out where the videos came from exactly. But they’d figure it out eventually, that’s what they kept saying. They were closing in on Jacob and Daniel Emmery and would eventually get the information needed to get to Brian.

Howie could only hope that eventually wouldn’t come too late.

 


	14. Date: Unknown - Names

_Date: unknown_

He took a few breaths, trying to be as calm as possible. The foul smell of the basement did nothing to help. The fingers on his right hand looked like someone smashed them repeatedly with a rock. He tried not to think about the pain. He tried to take a few calming breaths.

_What were their names?_

Closing his eyes, he searched for the information. Why he couldn’t just name them at the top of his head was ridiculous, but usually, after a few seconds, he would come up with the answer.

_What are their names?_

There was a stab of pain in his head and when he opened his eyes again, the basement was spinning around him. Maybe passing out wouldn’t be such a bad idea, but only after he found the answer.

“Come on, Brian, what are their names?” He grunted to himself and flinched. His throat was scratchy from the lack of water and nutrition and he didn’t even recognize his own voice. He coughed loudly, a scary, sickening sound, only worsening the dizziness. He felt his heartbeat speed up and a spark of fear pierce through him when he realized he didn’t know the answer.

He sat back against the wall, sobbing quietly as he pulled his legs up to his chest and wrapped his good arm around them, still careful with the broken fingers. The left arm was practically useless. The dislocated shoulder had swollen to three times its size and Brian was fairly sure he’d never be able to use it properly again.

Oh well.

He wondered, not for the first time, how long he’d been gone. Had it been a year? It felt like a year. Kevin always used to make fun of his inability to tell time though, so it probably hadn’t been a year.

Brian smiled a little to himself when he remembered the name. Kevin. Kevin the cousin. It was something. He shrunk a little bit further back into the wall as he heard loud footsteps on the floor above him. It had been a while since he’d heard or seen anyone. Could have been days. He knew one thing though; there was a new monster. He had no idea where the old one went, but this new one was a bit different. He didn’t hit him, or kick him, or broke his fingers.

The new one liked knives more. And other things. Unspeakable other things.

In many ways, the new monster was worse. The dried blood on Brian’s back and the painful burns on his legs were a testimony to that. But the new monster didn’t come down as much as the old one. He also didn’t videotape anything. That was a plus. He didn’t feed him as often either, and that was a bit of a problem.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten a decent amount of food, but water was the main concern. The water that leaked through the cracks in the basement was stale and filthy and most likely rotten. But he’d been so thirsty that he hadn’t cared. The taste had been awful and he’d felt his stomach turn the moment he swallowed it. It had taken a few tries, but eventually, he’d been able to keep it in.

This was his life now.

The sounds of footsteps died above him and he relaxed a bit more, sliding down until he was lying on his back. He closed his eyes and asked the question again. _What are their names?_ Breathing slowly, he counted to ten before opening his eyes.

And there she was.

He gasped softly and sat up quickly, ignoring the spinning dizziness accompanying the movement. She was so beautiful; just like he remembered her. Her smile was soft and sweet and her eyes were glowing with compassion and sadness. He watched breathlessly as she reached out to him, a warm, loving feeling spreading through her touch as her hand came in contact with his face. It had been such a long time since he’d felt that.

“Leighanne,” he whispered brokenly. Her being there didn’t make much sense, but he couldn’t care less. He needed her, so she was there. To him, it didn’t need to make more sense than that.

“Baby,” she spoke, her voice flowing like honey over every word she said. “What have they done to you?”

She sounded so sad and it killed him inside to see the sorrowful expression on her sweet face. “I’m okay,” he breathed softly, “Now that you’re here, I’m okay.”

“You’re dreaming, baby,” she spoke sadly, “When you wake up, I’ll be gone.”

“No,” he moaned quietly. How could he be dreaming? He could feel her touch, hear her voice, see her face. How could it feel so real?

“You need to hold on, sweetie,” she said, a sudden urgent tone in her voice. “Help will find you, have faith.”

“How can I have faith?” he questioned, feeling the tears stream down his bruised face, “I can barely remember what that’s like.”

“You can,” she replied in a loving tone.

“I don’t deserve it,” he whispered.

She studied him for a moment, retrieving her hand from his face. He immediately felt the cold, lonely feeling seep back in. Then she came closer, her long hair brushing his face as she leaned forward, “Nick’s alive,” she whispered in his ear.

 


	15. Date: December 11th. - Visitors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Each Time I see a comment on this story, I feel the urge to update :D

_Date: December 11th_

Detective Jessica Morson recognized him the moment he stepped foot into the building. Somehow, it seemed incredibly futile that she and her team had been working on the case for two months, and now one of the suspects just walked into the police office. She hadn’t known what to think of it; she still didn’t know now that they were face to face in the interrogation room. Her partner, Phil Crane, was sitting next to her, staring at the suspect intently.

Jacob Emmery did not show any sign of anxiety or distress. He almost seemed bored as he stared back at the two police officers. He raised his eyebrows lazily, looking from one pair of eyes to the other, raising his hands from the table, rattling the chain that led to the handcuffs, “Well?”

Morson looked at her partner for a brief moment, trying to hide the confusion she felt growing inside, “Well what?” she asked, knowing it didn’t sound particularly professional.

“Are you two suckers going to interrogate me or not?” Emmery grumbled challengingly.

“Why’d you come here, Jake?” Crane questioned, unfazed by Emmery’s direct approach.

Jacob smiled and sat back in the plastic chair and studied the two detectives for a few seconds before answering, “Heard you were looking for me and my boys.”

Emmery’s laid back attitude and total lack of respect was slowly but surely getting on her nerves and Morson turned to her partner, “Can I talk to you for a second?”

Crane nodded and stood up, following the older detective outside the room, “What is it?”

“We don’t have time for this. He’s not gonna talk! He’s just here to laugh at us, the smug bastard!”

“Slow down there for a second,” Phil replied, holding his hands up in mock defense, “He did come here in the lair of the beast. Why’d he do that just to laugh at us? We’ve been after his brother for a long time.”

“I can’t stand that fucking grin on him! We got no hard evidence on him, and he knows it.”

“We found Daniel’s blood at the crime scene, Jessica, that’s evidence. And don’t forget Carter’s report,” Crane said, “Jacob’s taking a big risk here, we just don’t know why.”

Morson sighed and looked away, slowly shaking her head, “Why does everything always have to be some kind of game here? Lives are at stake, for Christ’s sake!”

“We’ve been waiting for a break on this case for a long time, Morson. This could be it. Even if you don’t want this idiot to be it,” her partner said, opening the door to return to the room.

Morson rolled her eyes before following him inside. Emmery still had the same aggravating expression on his face. “Can’t keep your hands off of each other, huh? That’s not very professional, guys.”

“Why did you come here, Jake?” Crane repeated, straightening his tie as he sat back down across from the suspect.

“Well first,” Emmery drawled as he planted his elbows on the table between them and leaned forward, “I want to know how you know my name. And secondly, I want to rat on my brothers.”

He smiled as he saw the surprise on both of the detective’s faces. Morson frowned and scrutinized the large man in front of her for a few moments. “Why?”

“No no,” Emmery shook his head, still smiling, “You first answer my question. How do you know my and my brothers’ names?” Morson sat back, pressing her mouth into a fine line. This man was just playing with the both of them, couldn’t Crane see that?

“We found your brother’s blood at the crime scene,” Crane replied. Jessica wanted to shove him for giving confidential information to a suspect, but figured it was already too late for that. Instead she decided to just glare at him.”

“Idiot,” Emmery grumbled under his breath, “He never knew how to clean up his tracks. I knew he was gonna be the downfall of us all.”

Morson didn’t bother to mention the fact that Jacob was more likely to cause their downfall by sitting in a police office, ready to confess. She leaned forward instead, lessening the distance between the suspect and herself, “Why do you want to rat them out, Jacob?” She asked him, looking directly into his dark eyes.

A hateful smile appeared on Emmery’s lips and he leaned back in his chair, “Because they stole my money,” he scoffed.

Crane frowned in confusion, “So per revenge, you plan on talking, and as a result not only imprisoning your brothers, but yourself as well?”

Emmery shook his head, rattling the chains as he leaned across the table once more, “Oh no no no, that is not how this is going down. I’m gonna talk. I’ll tell you everything I know about this thing, but in exchange, I want total immunity on this case.”

“Forget it,” Morson growled, surprised that the rough looking giant even dared to suggest such a thing. Did he suspect he could just get away with kidnap and abuse?

Emmery looked at her scornfully, shaking his head in amusement, “You have no idea, do you? You have no idea how big this is. I talk, the whole system goes down!” he spat.

“You’re not getting away with this,” Morson said, glaring at him.

“Morson,” Crane said warningly, touching her arm. “Let’s discuss this outside for a moment.”

“Aww, you’re going away again?” Emmery commented despicably.

Crane ignored him as he led himself and his partner out of the room again. “Look, we really could have something here,” he insisted.

“He’s full of shit! Can’t you see that?” Morson replied, gesturing towards the window.

“What if he’s not?” Crane spoke, “Like you said, lives are at stake here. If he can lead us to Littrell, we can solve this case.”

“We’re not letting him off the hook, Phil! This is not a game!” Jessica exclaimed angrily.

“Look, if we want information, we need to make compromises. That’s how this works,” Crane answered patiently.

“I hate this,” Morson mumbled. “He could tell us whatever he wants, he could lie in our faces and we wouldn’t be able to tell.”

“False information wouldn’t give him immunity, he knows that perfectly well. Something tells me this is not his first time making a deal. We can see if his story matches Carter’s, then we’ll see where to go from there,” he said, looking her in the face, “Look, I hate to admit it too, but he’s the most valuable source of information we have right now.”

Morson sighed and nodded, “Alright. But if we catch him lying about _one_ thing.”

“He’s going down with the rest of them,” Crane nodded.

They walked back into the room, sitting down simultaneously. Emmery looked at them expectantly, the ever present grin eating away at his face, “Had any time to think about my suggestion while you two were hooking up out there?”

Crane looked at him, unimpressed, “Talk.”

“I first want your word that I will not be followed for anything having to do with this case.”

“If you tell us nothing but the truth, we might be able to work out a deal,” Phil sighed.

Emmery looked at them for a few seconds before making a decision, “Alright.”

 

 

_Date: December 12th_

The young man had barely time to catch himself as he tumbled down the stairs. He screamed, grunted, and then screamed some more. It was particularly dark down here. Well, darker than the van anyway. He was glad that his hands weren’t tied together anymore, because that had sucked. He heard the door shut above him before he knew it and felt his heart hammering in his throat.

“Hey!” he yelled, sprinting up the stairs as he ignored the protest from his bruised knee. Pounding his fists against the strong wooden door, he kept yelling; panic an evident part of his voice “Hey! Come back here!”

Thomas Fenn had just finished a long day at college when he had suddenly been seized from the street and thrown into a van. He had struggled and he had screamed. Had kicked and stomped. Then he’d blacked out. When he’d woken up, the van was moving and his hands were tied behind his back. He’d felt an incredible sense of fear then. And anger. How could this be happening? How could someone just grab someone else off the streets and throw them into their vans? He had a paper due tomorrow! He didn’t have time for practical jokes like this!

That must be it, right? What else could it be? His friends were playing this incredibly stupid... extensive, practical joke on him. They just wanted to see him scared. This was all because he’d tried to convince them that he knew no fear the other day.

And although in two days, he’d probably be able to laugh about this with them, now he was just very pissed off. They knew very well that he had to hand in the final script tomorrow and that he, as usual, still had a lot of work to do right before the deadline.

Those little asshats.

“Alright guys, I get it, you got me! I was really freaked out there for a second! Now let me out!” he yelled, wondering which one of his friends would have the guts to throw him down a flight of stairs. That hurt. He would take it out of them later. Now he just wanted to leave this dirty place. It smelled awful in here. How had they even found this place? It looked like it came straight out of a horror movie.

Now that his eyes had grown a bit more accustomed to the darkness, he saw the cracks in the wall, the water that leaked into a sad looking pool on the floor. The basement looked rather empty, but he couldn’t see more than four feet in front of him, so that could be just a wrong assumption. The only thing he could see right now was the filthy radiator at the end of the stairs.

Goddamn, this place was creepy.

He turned around again and started punching his fists against the door again, “I mean it, get me out!” he cried, “this is by far the stupidest thing you guys have ever done!”

He sighed when there was no answer. They wanted to let him stew here? Fine. He got why they would be mad at him. He’d been a damn cocky son of a bitch ever since he’d won first prize in that rowing competition. But wasn’t locking him in a damp basement going a little too far? He rolled his eyes as he slid down against the door, his feet dangling over the steps. He snorted angrily and shook his head, looking down at his knees.

His head shot up lightning fast when he heard the sound. A rustling kind of noise coming from the dark below him. His heart sped up again, hammering dangerously in his throat as he scrabbled upright, guarding himself against the door. “Hello?” he said uncertainly, painfully aware of how stupid he sounded. “I someone there?”

The rustling noise appeared again and Thomas gasped in shock when he realized he was not alone down here.

 


	16. The Reapers

We are called ‘The Reapers,’ my brothers and I. We do most of the dirty work. The dangerous stuff, you know? We probably also get paid best. You know, cause they’re still healthy and sparkly when we deliver them. We call them ‘packages,’ a pathetic method of detaching ourselves from the job.

It usually works like this; we get a commission, we do it. No questions asked. You can call us hitmen, call us kidnappers, I don’t care. They call us ‘reapers.’

Everything we did was usually strictly business, and I took pride in that fact. Sure, most of the things we did were illegal, but we vowed not to get emotionally involved. But hey, I guess family can turn on you real fast when a lot of money is involved.

We had a code; a few simple rules to live by so we wouldn’t get caught. Not more than three commissions a year, different locations each time, cash only and no celebrities. It has worked pretty well for each of us, although we all got involved in a police case more or less one time or another. They never could hold us for long, because of lack of evidence and that’s how we fared.

For those still not knowing what I am talking about: it’s called human trafficking and it is very illegal. We seize them from the streets and sell them as... well basically as slaves. We don’t care what happens to them after we sell them. I can make a good guess though. My brothers and I are known in the circuit and we’ve been able to make quite a few bucks out of the deals. We’ve always split the money and went on with our lives, until the last commission.

My older brother Gerald originally refused when we were approached to take ‘the blond Backstreet Boy.’ He’d growled that we didn’t do celebrities. The danger was too great, the attention too much, it wasn’t worth it. That, and celebrities were usually heavily guarded the entirety of the day. But the client kept insisting, raising the payment higher and higher and I guess it got to our heads. At one point, we decided to take the risk. We had been following the pop group around for quite some time, waiting for the exact moment when we could strike. We were always prepared; I guess you could say that we were professionals in our job. I think it took about four months before we saw our chance at that golf course. For some stupid reason, those two kids hadn’t bothered to take their houses of security guards with them that day. And guess what? They were both blond. I remember panicking about that, not knowing which one to take and which one to leave, so we took them both. We’d find out which one was the correct one later and dump the other one in a ditch then. You see, we don’t usually make mistakes like that. We don’t usually mess up that bad, we don’t usually let anyone live to tell the tale.

But that kid got the better of my baby brother one day. He jumped him from the top of the stairs and he would’ve escaped if I hadn’t gone to help. I got him off my brother and knocked him out.

Then the other one escaped.

We screwed up, I knew it, my brother knew it, we all knew it. I sent some of my men after the little runaway, but I guess they were never able to catch him in those dark woods. They found his cap somewhere in the bushes and brought it back for some reason. I thought they had killed him, I thought we were off the hook there. But I was wrong. We let one escape. We gave the cap to the other kid, the one that jumped my brother, and told him his friend was dead. He was fairly compliant after that and we hauled ass out of there, just to be sure.

I learnt two days later that Nick Carter had made it back safely to civilization. My older brother Gerald wasn’t very happy about that. He took it out on me and my brother and on the package.

Anyway, we sold the package about a week later for eight million dollars to some guy named ‘Soares’. I don’t believe it’s his real name, but I couldn’t care less at that point. I don’t know where he took the package, I don’t know what happened to him. I usually don’t try to think about the business too much. Ignorance is bliss, right? The fact that packages don’t have a very high surviving rate after a month or two, or that they’re rumored to be sold over and over again; it’s just stuff I choose not to pay attention to.

What are they used for?

I think you can imagine that yourselves. Who do you think steps up to make deals like this? Nice and ordinary people? Try psychopaths and perverts. These guys are the real dangerous shit, I tell you. This is big. This is bigger than anything your little pathetic police department has ever seen. This stuff is the stuff nightmares are made of. Torture and abuse and rape all tied into one. Even if those kids survive, they are never going to be able to live normal lives again. I have names and locations and dates to give. The only question remains:

Are you up for that job?


	17. Date: December 12th - Discovery

_December 12th_

 

He descended the stairs slowly, carefully. He half expected one of his friends to jump out of the shadows and scare the living crap out of him. That didn’t happen though. When he reached the bottom of the stairs, everything stayed perfectly silent. The rustling noise was gone, shrouding the ominous basement in a terrifying atmosphere.

“Hello?” Thomas tried again. Silence. Completely and utterly. He could see a little more of the basement now. Placing his hand against the cold stone wall, he followed it to get to the broken radiator. The smell down here was awful; like something had died recently.

He squinted at the heap of blankets at the far opposite of where he was standing. They looked old and scruffy and filthy and...

They moved.

Frozen to his spot, Thomas felt a nauseating feeling develop in his stomach. This wasn’t funny anymore. This was downright terrifying. He took a brave step forward, despite the chills travelling up and down his spine. “Jared? Is that you, man?” He called out quietly, a nervous laugh escaping him.

The blankets shuffled and he immediately took his step back, gasping in fear. Gosh, he was such a wuss sometimes. It was probably a raccoon or something. Although he could see no way that the animal could have gotten down here, it was the only explanation. He swallowed back the bile in his throat and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to steel himself. He was a man, damnit.

And he wanted to get out of here. Right now.

The blankets moved again, like they were breathing. Or rather; like something underneath it was breathing. The terror inside him was growing, but the curiosity was too. What the hell was that? That didn’t sound like a raccoon. That sounded like someone had asthma. The closer he got to it, the more he convinced himself that it wasn’t an animal. He was only a few feet away from the pile now and took another step.

It whimpered.

His heart leaped in his chest and he was suddenly not sure if he could breathe anymore. There wasn’t _something_ under the blankets. It was _someone._ He yelped when he came to that conclusion, visibly startling the person under the blankets as well. “Oh my God,” he whispered, carefully kneeling down on the dirty ground. “Oh my God, who the hell are you?”

“Please,” the hoarse voice of a man came from underneath the pile, “Please, go away.”

Thomas frowned. Somehow, he’d still had a bit of hope that it was just one of his friends playing out the ultimately worst prank in history. But this was too weird, this... was disturbing in every way. “Who are you?” he asked defensively.

 

“Please,” the voice repeated pathetically, “Please just stop.”

Thomas felt a stab of pity through the haze of confusion and fear. Who was this man and why was he here, buried underneath six blankets? And more importantly; why was Thomas here? The feeling that something was very, _very_ wrong was gnawing at the back of his mind. “What’s your name?”

The blankets stayed silent and Thomas sighed. “My name is Thomas,” he informed, “but most people just say Thommy, like I’m still a little kid.”

The blankets sighed and it stayed silent for a few seconds, “Brian,” the voice eventually offered.

Thomas nodded, finally sitting down on the cold ground. As confusing as it all was, he was glad he at least had someone to talk to, even though he didn’t much out of the man. “No offense, Brian, but your behavior could be considered strange by most people.”

It was a risky move. He knew absolutely nothing about this guy. What if the guy was armed? What if he was a psychopath? Did he just insult a psychopath? But somehow, he didn’t think a psychopath would be hiding underneath a pile of blankets here in this damp basement. Like he’d predicted, Brian didn’t bother to reply and he sighed. “Could you at least remove the blankets so we can see each other?”

There was a long moment of hesitation before Brian did as he was told. Thomas gasped slightly and scrambled back a little when he could finally see the man he’d been talking to. It was easy to see how hurt and sick the guy was. His face had sunken in, his eyes were glazed over and dull. Thomas gulped at the various scrapes and bruises covering the man’s skin. The fingers on his right hand were clearly broken and his left arm hung limply by his side. The skinniness and paleness of his skin was unnerving and Thomas wondered just how long Brian had been down here. “Oh God,” he breathed, feeling the bile rise in his throat again, “who did this to you?”

Brian slowly lifted his gaze and his blue eyes met Thomas’ grey ones, “The Monsters,” he whispered.

Thomas watched him, waiting for the joke. Then he nodded in confusion, “Right... the monsters.”

Brian nodded, glad the boy understood. “Did they capture you too?”

“Capture? What? No, they didn’t capture me. They...” Thomas trailed off. Holy shit. They did capture him. Somebody had grabbed him on his way home and thrown him inside a van, then the next thing he knew, he was tumbling down the stairs of this creephole. He watched in disgust as Brian nodded while he described it. There was a strange kind of compassion in his eyes when he looked at him.

“How old are you?” Brian asked eventually.

Thomas swallowed and shifted nervously, “Twenty one,” he said, clearing his throat.

Brian smiled sadly and nodded, leaning back against the wall for support, “That’s a nice age,” he commented quietly, “Nick was twenty one too.”

Thomas suddenly frowned, studying the man before him closely. His heart sped up when he finally made the connection. He managed to keep from yelling and instead took a deep breath to steady himself. He had to be sure first, “Was?”

“Yeah,” Brian said, gazing into the dark with unfocused eyes, “He died a little while ago.”

“I’m sorry,” Thomas replied, uneasily. He suddenly wasn’t as sure as he’d been a few seconds ago. There was something not adding up here.

“Yeah,” Brian sighed, a sad and tired look touching his features, “It was my fault.”

“H-how’d he die?” Thomas stammered.

“He was murdered. Horribly. I don’t want to talk about it,” Brian grumbled, suddenly defensive. It was easy to figure out he’d been through a lot. He looked much older than Thomas, but if his suspicions were right, he couldn’t be more than thirty.

“How old are you?” Thomas rushed quickly.

Brian looked at him for a minute, “Twenty-six, I think,” he answered, frowning in confusion. “Yeah, twenty-six.”

“Nick’s not dead,” Thomas commented.

Brian looked at the dark haired boy uncertainly. “What?”

“He’s alive,” Thomas smiled cautiously, “You... you’re that missing Backstreet Boy, aren’t you?”

A look of fear and utter confusion appeared on the older man’s face and he seemed to think for a minute before answering, “I’m... yeah?”

He seemed uncertain, like he’d forgotten about it and had just remembered it now that Thomas had mentioned it. Thomas nodded reassuringly, “You’ve been all over the news, man. The whole nation is looking for you. And when Nick came back...”

“He came back?” Brian interrupted, staring at him intently.

“Yeah,” Thomas said, “The media was all over it, it seemed. I mean, I’ve never really been much of a fan of your music or anything -no offense- but even people living in caves must have heard about it.”

“Is he okay?” Brian asked eagerly, his haunting stare boring into Thomas’ forehead.

“I-I think so,” the younger man answered, “He looked fine to me.”

“Oh my God,” Brian breathed, a sob of relief catching in his throat. He laughed hoarsely before coughing. The dullness in his eyes lighting up for a second. “Oh my God, he’s okay!”

 


	18. Date: December 15th - Broken

_Date: December 15th_

 

 

He dreamt alot. He dreamt of running maniacally through the woods. Of being chased by angry psychopaths with animalistic masks. He dreamt of screaming his friend’s name. He dreamt of ending up somewhere alone in the woods, completely lost. He dreamt that the bushes and branches would turn into arms and fingers, grabbing at him, trying to stab him from all possible sides.

But he would always end up there.

Inside that dark place that smelled horrible. In which he couldn’t see a damn thing; in which he would hear nothing but his friend’s crying voice, begging for help. Begging for Nick to find him, to put an end to the unimaginable suffering.

And still, after two months, Nick hated himself for leaving. He knew he should have stayed; it would have been the only good choice to make. They would have been able to share the onslaught of torture and sorrow. They wouldn’t have condemned the other person to utter and complete loneliness. Nick hated every single moment that he was sitting safe in his house, while he could have been right beside his friend.

Sure, they would have hurt him, they would have beaten the living shit out of him. But nothing that they could have done, Nick had figured, could have been worse than this feeling. He often felt like screaming, like running away and leaving everything and everyone behind. To start a completely different life in which he would try his hardest to forget everything that had happened. He knew that he never could though.

He’d been absolutely appalled by the various videotapes that were addressed to them. They were cruel and horrific and made his stomach do flipflops. He had often felt the tendency to jump at the TV and punch the holy hell out of it. In the end, he’d refused to watch, disgusted by the increasing degree of video-quality.

The first time he’d seen Brian’s face, he’d literally screamed and ran out of the room. He hadn’t watched another video since.

Cause he hadn’t been able to recognize his friend. He was ashamed of that. He was ashamed of the fact that it took him a whole of two minutes to figure out that the hollow and empty expression was indeed Brian’s. And he’d known. He’d known at that moment that it was too late. That it didn’t matter if they would ever find him back, Brian would be lost forever. And he hated himself for thinking that.

And then the videos had suddenly stopped.

They used to come fairly frequently. At least once a week. Then two weeks passed. Then three. No videos.

Nick had made the connection quickly, and he was sure that the others had too, they just didn’t want to say it out loud.

A part of him had felt completely empty, like a hollow void he couldn’t fill up anymore. He’d stumbled through his days like a ghost, deep inside a terrible haze of grief. His therapist called it progress. He was finally letting himself grief over what he had lost. He didn’t necessarily want to talk to anybody and actually preferred to be alone nowadays, which was ironic in the sense that he always used to be afraid of being left alone.

He sat upright in bed, panting as he slowly felt the fear slip out of his sweat drenched body. He was getting rather used to the little amount of sleep he got each night. It was probably just the price he had to pay for being alive. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed carefully, trying not to wake AJ up, who was sleeping in the bed on the other side of the room. He hadn’t shared a room with any of the fellows in so long, Nick had almost forgotten what it was like to hear AJ snore away in his peaceful slumber.

Lucky bastard.

He planted his feet on the icy floor and shivered. It was almost winter now. Tomorrow, it would snow for the first time that year. It seemed fairly appropriate for the event.

Nick hadn’t really been a fan of the idea, but more and more people around him seemed to want to have some kind of memorial. Not a burial, not a cremation. Just a memorial. For closure, they said. It had been Howie’s idea, actually. Kevin had agreed after little protest and eventually, most of Brian’s close friends and family were on board. Even Nick and AJ, though they knew that without actual hard evidence of their friend’s death, they would never really accept full closure. The only one who had been absolutely sickened by the idea and still refused to attend was Leighanne.

And although it was fairly strange not to have Brian’s own wife present at the memorial, Kevin had eventually decided to just leave her be. She was hard to reach nowadays, buried in her own personal hell of grief and anger.

Nick couldn’t blame her.

He tiptoed around in the hotelroom, cringing as he stepped into the even colder bathroom. He looked at the clean tiles and soft towels, feeling a stab of anger when he thought about the dire conditions of Brian’s last moments. He took a deep breath, willing his madly beating heart to calm down. He felt the tears in his eyes and even in his throat, knowing that not ever in this lifetime would he be able to let go of the thought that he should have been there alongside his friend. It had been his fate, the one certainty that was now distorted and messed up.

He gripped the sink furiously with both hands and stared at his disheveled reflection. He closed his eyes for a few seconds, then reopened them. He hated the face he saw with every little fiber that he had in him.

The thought of punching the mirror with his fists was suddenly overwhelming. He raised his hand, shaking with anger and thrust it forward without a second thought.

The deafening sound of the mirror shattering was strangely satisfying and he punched again, feeling the warm stream of blood sliding along his wrist. After two more punches, his hand was throbbing painfully and the mirror was completely smashed. The bloodied shards a terrifying reminder of the frustration that had been building up inside him steadily. He looked at his broken hand as if it were a foreign object; something that didn’t necessarily belong to him. It had only just healed. The cast had been removed two weeks ago. He smiled madly. The fingers were clearly broken and the deep cuts on the back of his hands seemed oddly appropriate.

“What in the holy fuck?” AJ yelled when he came into the bathroom to see what all the noise was about. He didn’t waste much time rushing in and grabbing Nick’s wrist. Nick winced, but his terrifying smile didn’t falter.

“I had to do it, Aje,” He whispered.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” AJ growled angrily, grabbing one of the soft towels and wrapping it around the Nick’s hand. “What the fuck were you thinking?”

“I had to,” Nick repeated quietly.

“We are going to the ER, right now,” AJ commanded roughly, tugging on his friend’s arm impatiently, “I don’t care who sees us.”

Nick looked at him and was surprised to actually see fear in AJs expression. The older man probably thought he’d snapped, which was pretty much true. His life was unraveling in a terrifying way. Despite the throbbing pain in his fingers and the blood that was now continuously dripping from his elbow, he felt utterly numb. He didn’t know if anything could ever replace that feeling again.

 


	19. Date: December 16th - Alive

_Date: December 16th_

The snow fell quietly that day. It was one of the only things AJ remembered from it. He remembered thinking that it had been a long while since he’d experienced any snow. He remembered sitting there outside in the cold, surrounded by people that he knew, but still feeling utterly alone.  He remembered them crying, but was unable to do so himself. He remembered the empty and hopeless feeling that had hung over him for the remainder of the day. The remainder of the week. The remainder of the month. He didn’t remember the various stories that were told. Or the various pictures that had been scattered throughout the grass. He didn’t remember the music, the flowers, the black outfits, or the sad faces.

AJ had never handled death very well. It had always seemed like a foreign concept; something that happened to other people he didn’t know. Not to the people that he had a bond with, not to those he loved.

And then, all of a sudden, it happened twice in one year. First was his grandmother. One moment she’d been there, the next she was gone. He’d been absolutely devastated. He’d derailed, falling into a deep pit of addiction and depression. He didn’t really remember much from that period other than what other people told him. He remembered going to rehab -twice- and coming out reborn. He’d been back on track, ready to take on the world again. He’d learnt to accept his grandmother’s death. She had been very old after all, and she’d had an amazing life, all things considered. He tried to think about that each time he missed her and then the dark, hollow feeling would ease up somewhat.

Then Nick and Brian went missing. During those first three days, he’d been sure they died, although he’d never told anyone that. He’d felt himself slipping back into old habits, no matter how much he fought it, the urge was too strong. He’d been blind drunk the night Nick had been found and had laughed out loud when Howie had called with the news, not believing him for a second. The weeks that followed got worse and worse and he had no idea how else to ease the pain but to grab a bottle. They all had their things. AJ knew Kevin often furiously wrote in that stupid journal of his, Howie would keep himself busy by hunting down every little bit of news he could find about the subject on the web or in the newspaper and Nick... well, apparently Nick smashed mirrors when he felt like snapping.

And what was so wrong about drinking anyway? He asked himself that as he studied Nick’s brand new cast around his hand. As long as he didn’t do drugs, it would be fine, right? They were sitting in the police station again, which had steadily become almost like a second home for them. AJ thought, not for the first time, that if people would ever make a movie of their career, it would eventually end in this police drama. Gone were the millions of screaming fans. Gone was the legacy they left behind with their music. They would only be remembered for one thing; the tragedy that would haunt them for the rest of their lives.

He still had to get used to that idea. The idea that one of his brothers had actually been murdered. It sounded so strange, so inapplicable. Who would ever get it in their minds to hurt and murder Brian? Sweet and innocent Brian. The very thought of that was insane. And when Howie had suggested the memorial, AJ had wanted to murder _him._ Sure, the sudden stop of the constant delivery of creepy videos could have only meant one thing, but he hated Howie for acknowledging it. How could he even think of closure and moving on when they hadn’t even found Brian’s body?

And as it turned out, the memorial was less memorable than he could have imagined anyway. The words had been empty and the mandatory slideshow had been a stab in the gut when you realized that the smiling pictures of happy times were so immensely out of place. Leighanne hadn’t bothered to show up, and neither did half of Brian’s family. AJ knew that Howie had meant well, but it seemed like not everybody was ready to let go yet.

And considering the tumultuous weeks that would follow the memorial, that one day seemed both irrelevant, but extremely important at the same time.

 

_Date: unknown._

Brian had felt a lot better when he learnt about the fact that Nick was still alive. That he had actually made it and was safe was a huge relief. He’d felt the weight of guilt sliding off him and could finally breathe again. He’d saved Nick. He hadn’t condemned him to a premature death; he’d actually, for real, saved his younger friend. That knowledge seemed to make him stronger; it made him feel alive again.

_Maybe he could do it again?_

He and Thomas talked a lot and Brian felt like he’d known the young man for most of his life now. Just like he’d suspected, Thomas had been just as innocent as most of the people that wound up in this situation. He had been extremely scared the first time the monster came down to get them. Brian had tried to reassure him by keeping a confident, and friendly smile on his face. The monster seemed to go easy on them, it even gave them some food in the beginning of the session. Brian had shoved it down immediately, not caring about the drugs that were evidently mixed in with the bread. They made him woozy and forgetful and he didn’t remember much from the session that had followed.

But when he woke up to see Thomas’ face hovering over him, he noticed that something had forever changed in the young man’s grey eyes. The disillusioned expression on his features was evidence of that. The olive-skinned boy didn’t say much after that. Brian figured he had to deal with it on his own and didn’t ask about it. But he knew that Thomas’ innocence had slipped away in just an instant, just like his own had. He wondered if Nick’s had as well, and if he was able to deal with it on his own, wherever he was.

He stared up at the basement’s low ceiling, trying to remember the life he lived before this one. The life of screaming teenage girls that would faint if he so much as winked at them. The time when one of his biggest fears had been to slip and fall in Rio, and being trampled by thousands of crazy fans. The life in which he would sing cheesy love songs and make a shitload of money, just because he was lucky enough to be blessed with a pretty voice. He’d told Thomas about that life. He’d told him how absolutely amazing that life had been, how fantastically wonderful.

Thomas had laughed and mocked him for his crazy lifestyle, but had eagerly listened to all the insane stories Brian came up with. They spent hours propped up against the wall, exchanging stories about crazy teen girls’ behavior and about college-life, which Brian never really got to experience.

“Then what happened?” Thomas asked with big eyes, staring into the dark at his friend.

“I’m not really sure,” Brian answered slowly, smiling at the vague memory, “I was asleep. But I heard the commotion in the middle of the night when Nick stumbled over their legs.”

“What? Their legs?”

“Yeah. Apparently they stowed away on our bus. No idea how they got in there. Maybe through the roof.”

“Wow,” Thomas muttered and gazed ahead thoughtfully, “Your security sucks.”

“I wouldn’t say that...”

“Oh come on, would you even be here if you had well enough security?”

“Oh no no, that didn’t happen because of a security issue. That happened because we’re stupid and don’t think we need security at a golf course.”

“Right.”

“Yep.” Brian laughed before coughing violently. Although his health had increased somewhat since Thomas had arrived, it wasn’t anywhere near what he would consider safe. He had no strength to do anything and couldn’t even stand up straight for ten seconds before crumbling to the ground like a ragdoll. He could tell Thomas was worried, but didn’t dare telling him how messed up he really was. He had to keep the boy’s spirits up. By now, Brian had pretty much given up on the idea of ever getting out of here himself, but that didn’t mean Thomas should give up too.


	20. Date: Unknown - Shoot

 

_Date: unknown_

Brian jerked awake when the door opened and light flooded through the basement. Next to him, he felt Thomas scramble back against the wall, the fear evident in his eyes. The silhouette of the figure in the doorway didn’t move. Brian let his head lean back in exhaustion. He was beyond tired; the kind of tired that no amount of sleep could ever fix.

Thomas looked at him and frowned, seeing the way his companion was shaking and wincing with each labored, wheezing breath he took. The older man was getting worse and worse each day, and Thomas knew that he would not be able to endure another session. Brian had been here for a long time without any medical attention or hygiene. And now that Thomas could see him in the bright light that shone into the basement, his appearance was more than a little shocking.

Although Thomas had never really been into pop music; his girlfriend had been. He knew the Backstreet Boys better than he would have liked. He’d seen pictures everywhere, heard their songs wherever he went, saw them appear on TV out of nowhere. It was quite annoying, actually. But the man next to him didn’t resemble the popstar he’d seen in videos and pictures in the least. His hair was longer and darker and beyond filthy. The scruffy three day old beard was almost just as grimy. But it was the gaunt, sickly pallor of his skin that scared Thomas more. The dark rings under his eyes and the waves of heat he felt radiating off of him, indicating his temperature was far above normal. He was so thin you could almost see through him, his body just merely skin over bones. For the first time, Thomas realized that it wouldn’t be much longer until Brian wouldn’t be able to take it anymore.

That thought was immensely scary.

“Well?” the monster’s voice resounded from above the stairs. “Are you coming or what?”

Thomas shot him a hateful glance, feeling the anger and frustration race through him. Did that evil son of a bitch really think Brian was just going to stand up and walk up the stairs? In what world did he live? “He’s sick!” he barked at the monster above him, “Can’t you fucking see that? He needs a doctor!”

“Thom no,” Brian warned quietly.

It became silent and Thomas and Brian watched the monster slowly descend the stairs. The man was about a foot taller than them and Thomas swallowed nervously when the monster hovered above him threateningly. “I’ll decide what he needs, he’s my property,” he sneered viciously.

“You’re fucking killing him!” Thomas hissed, not quite sure where his confidence came from.

 “So be it.”

“Thommy, please don’t,” Brian repeated, but Thomas didn’t listen.

“You can’t do that! What has he ever done to you? What have _we_ ever done to you?” Thomas screamed, feeling the tears threatening to overtake his voice.

The monster smiled his evil grin, taking a step closer to Thomas, “You have quite a mouth on you all of a sudden, boy.”

Thomas took a step back in turn, considering the likely possibility of the man snapping his body in two like he was not more than a twig. “He needs a doctor,” he repeated. “He’s gonna die.”

“We’ll see about that,” the monster growled as he took a step towards the sick man that was still on the ground, leaning heavily against the wall. The fear that Brian was going to die if he had to go through one more session was overpowering Thomas. The thought of being all alone down here, without having Brian to talk to, or to lean on, was absolutely horrifying. So Thomas did what he had to do.

In a rush of panic -and possibly stupidity- Thomas jumped forward and grabbed the monster’s arm, “Please, just leave him alone!” The monster froze, turning his head slowly to first look at Thomas, and then at the kid’s hand that had grabbed unto his arm. With a wild growl, he shoved the young man back, cause Thomas to stumble and lose his balance. He approached the college student threateningly. Thomas bit his lip, his heart beating like it was going to explode and his body suddenly frozen in fear. He could easily see that the monster was furious, which was all the more scary considering he was usually calm and collected. Cruel, yes, but in a calm, terrifying way.

And he was going to kill him.

Thomas closed his eyes as the monster grabbed him by his throat, praying it would at least be over quickly. He could vaguely hear Brian screaming and cursing and momentarily felt bad for the fact that he had to leave Brian all alone again. This wasn’t how it was supposed to turn out. They had dreamt about escaping, about running out of the basement and just winging their flight. They had discussed detailed escape plans, and Thomas had seen the light flash in Brian’s eyes whenever he told him about how he helped Nick escape.

He thought about this while he could slowly feel the air getting more difficult to breathe in. he wondered if the monster was taking his sweet time killing him, or if everything actually really happened in slow motion when you were dying. He suddenly gasped and stumbled back when his throat was released. Wheezing, he grabbed at the swelling skin, doubling over and trying to catch his breath. The basement was swimming in front of his eyes and he could barely see anything through the tears that had accumulated there. He heard it though.

He had no idea how, but somehow, Brian must have found the strength to get up and tackle a man that was more than a hundred pounds heavier than he was. Thomas watched in astonishment for a second, reminded of Brian’s story of Nick’s escape. With large eyes, he looked at the still open basement door, than back at the two struggling man on the ground. It was clear that the monster had no trouble overpowering the weak singer and with a snarl, he kicked Brian in the ribs, who immediately curled into a ball, groaning in pain. Thomas hesitated, wondering if he should make a run for it now the monster was distracted. He knew Brian would want him to escape, but was more than a little afraid of what the sick psycho would do to the singer if he caused Thomas to escape.

But then, right before Brian received another kick, Thomas saw it. The gleam in his eyes when he locked his gaze with Thomas’.  Thomas nodded and turned around, running up the stairs of the basement, towards freedom.

He didn’t hear the click of the gun, or the shot. He didn’t realize he was falling down the stairs faster than he could have run up. There was a vague, fiery pain in his back. He heard Brian scream in terror before the second shot was fired. Then he heard nothing anymore.

Thomas Fenn was twenty one years old. He died before he hit the basement’s floor at the bottom of the stairs.


	21. Date: Around January 2nd

_Date: Unknown_

His hoarse voice screamed out when he saw Thomas fall. The second gunshot was as deafening as the first one, but he didn’t hear it. For a moment, time was completely frozen and he sat in the middle of the basement, hearing the blood rush through his head, and his heavy, panicked breathing form little clouds of smoke in front of his mouth.

Thomas was not moving. He was not screaming. He lay at the bottom of the stairs like a broken doll. Someone was calling out Thom’s name, and Brian realized that it was his own voice. Of the three people in the basement, he was the first to move, clumsily crawling over to where the younger man lay sprawled out on the floor.

“Thommy,” he breathed, taking in the growing red stain on the kid’s chest and feeling the blood pool underneath both of them. “Thommy, please,” he whispered. Thomas wasn’t moving, did not react in any way and it took Brian more than a minute to figure out that the younger man wasn’t breathing. There was no heartbeat.

“No,” Brian muttered, covering the wound with his good hand, ignoring the firing warning in his hurt shoulder, “no no no no no. Come on, don’t do this.”

 Panting, he felt the blood slip easily through his fingers and watched Thomas’ still, expressionless face. “Thom?” Brian said, his voice thick with tears, “Thom, please. Please come back. Please.”

He repeated his plea a few more times, taking Thomas into his arms and slowly rocking them both as he felt the sobs taking over. He was completely unaware of the looming presence further back into the basement, who was observing the two of them quietly. Screaming in frustration, he hugged the younger man a little tighter, willing some life back into his dead body. He’d never actually _seen_ anyone die before in his life and was overwhelmed by the raw emotions it could produce. He felt his whole body shaking and his breath came in loud gasps. He screamed again, trying to put every bit of pain and anger into his voice as it scratched his throat.

“Alright, that’s enough,” a low, dark voice grumbled and the monster stepped out from the shadows. Brian ignored him completely and continued sobbing, holding onto Thomas for dear life. The monster did not like to be ignored and rapidly came closer, reaching out a hand to his two prisoners.

“Don’t you fucking touch him!” Brian cried out, scrambling backwards with Thomas still in his arms. The monster snorted angrily, his mouth twitching madly. Brian didn’t care at all. He protectively hugged Thomas even tighter and shot the monster a furious glare.

“How dare you disobey like that?” the monster growled menacingly, only inches away from Brian’s face. “I’ll teach you to behave like that!” He exclaimed, pointing his gun at Brian this time.

“What?” Brian spat furiously, “Are you going to kill me too?”

The monster’s nostrils flared angrily and he adjusted his grip on the weapon, “I had no choice. You shouldn’t have let him escape. I had to shoot him.”

“Yeah, keep telling yourself that,” Brian growled, staring at the monster challengingly, “What are you waiting for? Do it. Just kill me!”

The monster studied him thoughtfully for a moment, then lowered his weapon with a grin, “Nah, you are much too valuable for that.”

“What?” Brian said, shocked. He’d been so sure this would be the end. Finally. Finally free from this nightmare. He’d been ready to embrace the end with open arms. What he wouldn’t do for that. “No. No, you have to kill me.”

The monster frowned, “No, I don’t.”

“Please,” Brian whispered, his grip on Thomas’ body finally loosening as he stared at the monster’s unreadable expression, “Why not? Please.”

“There’s so many things we still have to do,” The monster grumbled, his grin slowly spreading.

“No!” Brian screamed out, “No, you can’t do that! Please! Please, just be a normal human being for once and kill me!”

“I would never kill you, dear, you’re my favorite,” The monster answered softly, tucking the gun back in his jeans. “There’s still so much fun for us to have. Don’t worry, I’ll get you some antibiotics. You’ll be as good as new.”

With that, the monster slowly ascended the stairs, closing the door behind him softly. Stunned, Brian watched him leave with wide-open eyes, Thomas’ blood still spilling through his fingers.

 

_January 2nd 2002_

They were so close, so unbelievably close. Kevin hadn’t known that until about a week ago. Of course, he’d been fairly angry that the police hadn’t kept them updated with such big breaks. But then again, the police weren’t obliged to keep them updated about anything, really. They weren’t Brian’s close family. Not officially anyway.

Apparently, they had found a reliable witness in the case of Brian’s disappearance. It had led them to the Emmery brothers, who were now imprisoned and faced a life sentence. The only reason Kevin knew this was because Nick had been called as a witness against the Emmery brothers. That’s when he heard the entire story about how the police were trying to successfully infiltrate the underworld of psycho kidnappers, which would eventually lead them to Brian and victims like Brian. It would take a while, that was for sure, but chances of finding Brian alive at this point were next to nothing. Kevin had already known that, but to hear someone say it out loud was still an icy stab to his guts.

He squeezed Nick’s shoulders, trying to transfer some courage into the younger man. Nick had been awfully quiet the whole day; more than usual, anyway.

“You can do this, buddy,” he mumbled.

Nick nodded slightly, opening the door to the hearing room and sighing nervously. Kevin watched him go in, wishing he could offer more support than this.

 

_Date: Unknown_

Brian lay on the ground, staring up at the basement’s ceiling. He blinked slowly. The basement smelled of sweat, urine, vomit and a dozen other things. He barely noticed anymore. He was fascinated by the slow trickle of blood that ran down his arm, all the way to his fingertips, eventually dropping to the ground in thick, slow splashes. Was it his? Must be. Did he care?

                No, not really. In a way, it made him realize that he was still alive.

He tried to remember how his life had been like before he was cast away to this hell. He tried to remember the various people that had played a role in his life. Had he been happy then? He didn’t remember. Must have been happier than he was now though. He smiled softly into the dark, figuring that any other place would be happier than this.

He didn’t remember anymore though. At first, that had scared him, but now, he didn’t really care anymore. He felt awfully stoic about a lot of things, actually. About the way he was handcuffed to one of the broken radiators in the back of the basement. About the blood that was running down his arm, slowly creating a pool of red on the ground. It was fascinating, but not very exciting.

He didn’t care about the fact that it had been a long, long time since the monster had come down here. Longer than it had ever been, actually. The first few times the monster had come down after Thomas’ death, there had been no more sessions. Just bread, and pills. Loads of pills. Brian had eaten them obediently, and had watched the monster leave afterwards. But after a few times, the monster had stopped coming down. Brian had almost no concept of time, but if he had to guess, he’d say it had been at least a week.

He reached over to the dripping water that spilled from the basement’s ceiling. He supposed it was raining outside. He didn’t remember the last time he’d been outside, though. He didn’t remember what it felt like to feel the rain streaming down your face. He cupped his hand the best he could. His broken fingers had healed wrongly, making them crooked and hard to use. He sipped at the dirty water, only wincing slightly as the foul taste slid down his dry throat.

It rained a lot. It was the only thing keeping him alive.

But somehow, he looked forward to the day it would stop raining. He would have no more excuses then. He could just close his eyes and never wake up. That sounded better than anything else he could think of.  He would just fall asleep and stop breathing. It wasn’t that hard, right? It couldn’t be, considering his breath was already coming in shallow, difficult gasps.

He closed his eyes and counted to ten. When he opened them, she was there, just like always. He didn’t remember her name, but knew that whenever he envisioned happiness, it was her. Her golden hair and light blue eyes were more beautiful than anything he could have ever imagined, so she must be real, right?

He didn’t know for sure, neither did he care. He smiled and tried to keep his eyes open as she slowly came closer until he could feel her fingers on his. Her touch was so warm, so loving that it brought tears to his eyes. He stared at her, trying to remember her face as she leaned forward and kissed his warm forehead, her soft hair brushing his wet cheeks.

“Stay with me,” Brian whispered in a broken voice.

She let go of his hand and softly touched his bruised face, the warm loving feeling spreading like a rapid fire through his cold and broken body. Her face was unrecognizable, but so very familiar and it shredded him inside that he couldn’t remember her. She let go of his face and removed her head away from his, “I can’t” she said quietly, “You must stay strong, Brian.”

“Please,” he breathed, the warm, magical feeling of being with her slowly disappearing, “Please, I’m so alone.”

“Just a little bit longer,” her voice said right next to him, though he couldn’t see her anymore.

“Don’t leave me,” he begged to the dark, the tears streaming down his face. “Please. I can’t do this anymore.”

She walked away slowly, back to where she had come from. Brian watched her, too weak to keep her with him. Too weak to do anything to keep his eyes open. They slowly fell shut and he counted to ten.

She wasn’t there.

He sighed, giving into the exhaustion and numbing darkness. The last thing he heard before slipping into unconsciousness were the footsteps on the ceiling above him. By the time they reached the basement, Brian had stopped breathing.


	22. January 12th - Break

_January 12th_

It had gone insanely fast all of a sudden.

The group had been sent one last final video, after more than a month of total radio silence. Nick had felt his stomach turn when he was woken up early in the morning by AJ, who stared at him with wide eyes, his face completely drained of all color. The police had not been there to intercept this tape and apparently, Kevin and Howie hadn’t called them either when they received the package at Kevin’s address.

He’d let the two other band members in solemnly and Nick would have wondered why the older man was being so mysterious if he wasn’t so damn nervous. He didn’t want to watch the video, he really didn’t. He’d seen enough since that time when he had to watch Brian’s fingers being broken. But Kevin was very persistent though, convincing them that this could be the key in the entire investigation. Nick had wanted to ask him why he hadn’t called the police then, but Kevin had just kept talking until he started the video.

The tape was, for once, entirely clear. The basement was dimly lit by the open door at the top of the stairs. The camera slowly turned down, revealing the molted patches on the floor. The person holding the camera was descending the stairs quietly and Nick had held his breath. When it reached the bottom, the image wavered slightly before revealing the body of a man that could not have been older than Nick himself.

“Oh my God,” AJ had breathed and Nick had clasped a hand over his mouth.

“T-That’s not Brian,” Nick had stammered, tearing his gaze away from the video to stare at Howie and Kevin instead. They looked at him pointedly and shook their heads.

“We know that, Nick,” Kevin had said in a husky voice, “Just watch.”

The young man on the basement floor was clearly dead. The awkward position of his body and the dried, huge amount of blood on and around him were enough evidence of that. Nick had felt the bile rise in his throat and wanted to look away more than anything. Then something happened that had never happened before in any of the videos they had been sent. The camera turned and revealed the face of the guy holding it.

Nick and AJ had gasped when they saw the man staring into the camera. It had taken everything he had for Nick not to jump up and punch the television screen. To his surprise the monster holding the camera opened his mouth and started talking.

“Today is December 29th. I will not send this video for two more weeks, giving me enough time to get out of the country. You will not see or hear from me ever again. I am guilty of abuse, rape and murder of Brian Littrell and Thomas Fenn. You will not believe me when I say that I am sorry for what has happened, so I will not tell you that. Thomas was killed while trying to escape this basement two days ago. By the time this video will reach you, I suspect Brian has died as well. I will give you the coordinates of their location, so you may recover their bodies. They are in the North of Minnesota, close to the Canadian border. Coordinates are 92, minus 48.”

The camera was turned around, revealing the image of the dead body at the bottom of the stairs again before turning further into the basement, showing a curled up figure chained to a radiator. Nick had felt the breath hitch in his throat, terror slowly clouding his senses. The video cut to black eventually and the apartment became oddly silent. He could feel AJ shaking next to him, but couldn’t move.

AJ had shook his head wildly and stood up, livid, “None of this makes sense!” he’d yelled. “Is this a freaking joke? Is there someone out there who thinks stuff like this is funny?”

“AJ, calm down,” Howie had spoken, but the tremor in his voice betrayed his own anxiety.

“What? Calm down? We don’t hear anything in a month and all of a sudden I am to believe that this monster has suddenly grown a conscience? Are you kidding me?”

Nick had winced at AJ loud voice, the image of the dead boy and the curled up figure chained to the radiator flashing through his mind repeatedly. The sound of the other boys’ arguing voices had seemed awfully far away. He had felt like passing out and stood on wobbly legs. “Excuse me,” he’d said shakily.

“Nick, will you tell AJ to stop being stubborn and agree to give this tape to the police,” Howie had grumbled at him, glaring at AJ.

“No,” Nick had said, leaving the room quickly and stumbling through the apartment until he reached the bathroom. Breathing hard, he sat down on the ground with his back against the wall.


	23. January 13th - Woods

_January 13th_

 

All the times he’d dreamt of finding out where Brian was, he could never have imagined it being like this. He’d always imagined it to be a joyous occasion. The end of the nightmare. But he’d finally accepted the fate of never finding Brian as the end of the nightmare. He’d finally accepted the fact that they had to go on without ever knowing what had happened to their friend. It was incredibly hard and went against every instinct he had, but he tried to make it work. And then, -as AJ put it- the monster had grown a conscience all of a sudden and decided to reveal his prisoner’s location after more than three months.

Why?

That question still plagued him to this day as they sat in the police car, entering the thick woods of Superior National Forest in Minnesota. He was extremely anxious and clutched his knee in an attempt to stop his leg from tapping nervously. AJ was sitting next to him and hadn’t said a word the entire trip. AJ had agreed to giving the tape to the police, on one condition; that they could be there when they broke into the basement that had held Brian hostage all these weeks. Nick had been very weirded out by the idea, but had felt that it was his duty to return to the situation he’d escaped three months ago. It seemed poetic, almost. Kevin and Howie had refused to come along, declaring that AJ and Nick had officially lost their minds.

What were they gonna do, huh? How were they gonna be of any help to the police? They would only get in their way. The idea was more than ridiculous.

The road was very bumpy and did nothing to calm his nausea as they got deeper into the forest. Detective Morson and sergeant Crane had grudgingly agreed to AJs crazy demand in order to get their hands on the videotape that proved to be the final puzzle piece in the whole investigation. They continued to ignore the two Backstreet Boys in the backseat, keeping their focus on the two police cars in front of them, leading the way.

By the time the car stopped, Nick felt the scarce lunch he’d had earlier in the afternoon finding its way to his esophagus and he swung open the door, letting go of the contents of his stomach, and maybe a little bit of anxiety as well. AJ observed his and shook his head. “You freaking wuss.”

“You crazy maniac,” Nick groaned when he was done. “Why are we even doing this?”

“For Brian.”

Nick frowned, but kept silent. It wouldn’t help Brian one single thing if they were there or not. He knew why he was doing this though and it was probably the same reason for AJ as well. To finally have some closure to the horrifying situation.

“It should be here,” he heard Crane mutter to his co-worker. “These are the exact coordinates.”

Jessica Morson looked around in confusion, “I don’t see anything though,” she replied, “Danny? You see anything?”

The cop in the second police car shook his head and shrugged. “Told you it was a hoax.”

“Goddamnit!” Morson growled, slamming the passenger door shut. “We did not drive all the way over here to be part of a joke.”

Nick ignored her as he searched the woods, trying to ignore the persistent memories of the last time he’d been in a forest. They were right, there was nothing in sight as far as he could see and his shoulders slumped in defeat. He’d really hoped that they would finally be done with this nightmare.

“Wait!” AJ hissed and pointed at a spot in the distance, “What’s over there?”

Nick and the others stared at the direction he was pointing at. Squinting, they could make out a wooden cottage hidden behind a bunch of trees. “Wow,” Crane muttered appreciatively and AJ grinned slightly.

“Told you we’d be helpful,” he commented.

“We’ll see about that,” Crane muttered and began walking towards the cottage, lining his pistol next to his side. “Alright people, we need to be extremely careful here. We suspect the cottage is empty, except for the bodies, but we can’t be sure,” he pointed at the three other cops, “I want you to go into every room to clear the house. After the house is cleared, we will look for the basement.”

The others nodded in understanding. Nick held his breath as Crane opened the door, walking into the house swiftly. The rest followed him. Nick, AJ and Morson stayed close to Crane as he cleared two rooms before reaching a door that looked even worse than the rest of the cottage did. It was locked too.

Nick gulped, suddenly very reluctant to see what was behind it. Crane cursed and fumbled with the door handle. “Alright, get back,” he commanded before taking a step back himself. Nick watched him uncertainly and Morson looked at him, “Don’t worry, he’s good at this,” she said. Crane raised his leg and kicked the door with trained skill. The door creaked and flew open when he kicked again. It was completely dark and Morson and Crane both shone their flashlights into the basement.

 


	24. Still January 13th - Breathe

Nick noticed the disgusting smell first. He gagged and nearly threw up again. He heard AJ groan next to him as the older man clasped a hand over his mouth and nose. With an astounding amount of self control, they both managed to keep their stomachs under control and followed the two detectives as they slowly walked down the stairs.

“Oh dear lord,” Morson whispered when her flashlight shone over Thomas’ body. Nick whimpered softly at the terrible sight and AJ quickly averted his eyes, trying to see deeper into the basement. Crane’s light shone over the walls carefully and Nick felt himself shaking in fear.

He screamed out his name when he finally caught sight of him, and before Nick knew what he was doing, he ran towards the curled up form that was lying next to the radiator, stumbling over a few blankets that were scattered over the floor.

He didn’t care that he could feel every single one of Brian’s bones when he took him into his arms. He didn’t care that the smell that was coming off of his friend was beyond disgusting. He didn’t care about the complete lifelessness of the limp form that lay in his embrace. It took everything he had not to convince himself that this was just another one of those dreams. He reached for Brian’s throat, hoping beyond hope that he would find a sign of life there. Hoping that he-

“He’s alive!” he choked out, tightening his grip on his friend’s body.

“Nick...” AJ said softly, shaking his head.

“No, no, he’s alive!” Nick yelled, shooting AJ a furious glare.

AJ frowned and his eyes widened as he hurried over to them, followed closely by the two detectives. “Oh my God,” he whispered. “Call 911!” he yelled to Crane, who was behind him.

Nick gave a choked laugh, hugging Brian a little bit closer to his body and splaying out a hand on his chest, feeling the incredibly weak heartbeat pound against his palm stutteringly. A sob of relief escaped his throat and he put his other hand on Brian’s head. Brian was completely still though and if Nick didn’t know any better, he’d say-

“Nick, he’s not breathing!” AJ grumbled urgently, pulling at his arm.

“W-what?” Nick asked, shocked. “n-no, you’re wrong...”

“He’s not breathing, Nick, let him go,” AJ repeated, “We have to do something!”

“Move!” Morson commanded and Nick let go immediately, carefully laying Brian down on his back. He watched anxiously as Morson raised her fist and let it crash into Brian’s chest with accurate precision. “Damnit,” she growled, “You’re not going to do this, kid, you hear me? Not after everything.”

The incredible fear was slowly suffocating him and Nick whimpered as Morson raised her fist again. She turned to look behind her with an urgent expression, “Any of you two know CPR?” she questioned quickly.

“Yes,” AJ croaked through a closed up throat, rushing to kneel beside her and Brian, feeling Nick’s confused stare burning through him. “I took a class when Brian told us he had to have surgery four years ago,” he grumbled without looking at Nick, “I like to be prepared, is that so weird?”

Nick cleared his throat, amazed, “N-no. Not at all.”

“Good. What do I do?” AJ asked quickly.

“He’s not breathing. You need to tilt his head back, pinch his nose and breathe into his mouth. I’ll continue compressions. Oh, make sure there’s nothing blocking his airway.” In any other situation, Nick would have made fun of AJ kissing Brian. Now he could only watch helplessly as AJ did what he was told, breathing for Brian and carefully watching his chest rise and fall as a result.

“Come on, Bri. Come on,” Nick chanted quietly, letting the silent tears stream down his face freely, as his fingers moved over Brian’s heated forehead. “Not now, not this way.”

“They’re sending a helicopter,” Crane said as he reappeared next to them, “They’re about fifteen minutes away. I’ve instructed Danny and the others to look out for them.”

“We don’t have fifteen minutes, Phil!” Morson growled, pressing her hands into the singer’s chest repeatedly, disgusted by the way she could feel his ribs almost cutting into her hands. There was almost no fat or muscle tissue left on his body, making him little more than a skeleton with skin. His dark blond hair had fallen out in some spots and his nails had blackened considerably. Jessica Morson had seen some pretty nasty things in her career, but Brian and Thomas definitely made it into the top five.

AJ was panting and gasped for air. He tried to ignore the dizzy feeling in his head as he continued to work on Brian. The terrible smell in the basement did nothing to help and the feeling that they had been trying to revive his friend for too long was growing. But he would be damned if he gave up. Not now, not after everything. He had wished to find Brian for so long. He had even promised Leighanne that it wouldn’t matter if it was the last thing he did, he would find him. And he had; and now he would save him.

Nick cried silently, softly letting his fingers slide over Brian’s emaciated face, “Listen,” he whispered, close to his friend’s ear, “I know you don’t want to come back to this terrible place, buddy. But... we’re here now, we’ve got you. I’m so sorry it took us so long... You’ve gotta come back, Bri... Please... please come back.” He looked up and watched AJ and Morson continue their frantic efforts. Biting his lip, he looked back down at Brian’s ashen face. He’d thought it wouldn’t matter for him and AJ to be there for Brian. He’d thought they would find Brian’s body and take it back home, to bury him. He felt slightly guilty for the fact that he hadn’t even dared to dream that Brian could still be alive. And now, as he held Brian’s feverish head in his hands, he didn’t dare to think of a bad ending to this ordeal.

“Breathe,” he murmured, his voice breaking as sobs invaded his throat, “Please, breathe, Bri. Just breathe.” He repeated his plea over and over, trying not to let the despair he felt infiltrate his voice. He heard AJ yelp in surprise when Brian suddenly gasped, the breath rattling and rasping in his lungs. Nick pulled his sickly friend close to him, sobbing in relief. Brian’s eyes fluttered open for a few seconds before falling shut again. He fell completely limp in Nick’s arms, but continued to breathe.

“It’s okay now,” Nick whispered softly, “It’s over, Bri. We’ve got you, you’re safe now. He’s never gonna hurt you again, alright? Nobody’s ever going to hurt you again.” He continued to mumble soothing words next to his friend’s ear.

“I am going to kill that guy,” AJ growled, not caring that there were two police officers in earshot. “I’m going to kill him.”

Nick didn’t pay attention to him, or to the waves of heat that were radiating from Brian. He clutched the older man a bit tighter and vowed not to ever let go of him again.


	25. Date: Unknown - Drifting

_Date: unknown_

He was floating. Nothing special, just a tiny little bit under the surface. It was a trick he’d learnt over time. Whenever he didn’t want to be too aware of things during a session, he’d close his eyes and let himself drift in and out of awareness. The drugs usually helped a great deal. He didn’t remember taking any before this session though. But that was okay; he didn’t remember lots of things. He didn’t mind it anymore.

He was aware of the soft blanket that was wrapped around his frame. It was, wonder above all wonders, clean. And warm. Good God, it was so warm. His whole body felt like it was on fire now. It became steadily uncomfortable. And at the same time, he felt shivering cold too. Must be the fever. But the whole point of this ‘drifting’ thing was that he would not let it affect him.

There were definitely voices, some urgent and loud, others subdued and low. He didn’t recognize them, nor did he like the hands that were touching him. Poking and prodding. He didn’t like being touched.

There were multiple of them, he was sure of it. Had they finally come to kill him? The Woman with the Golden Hair had said that it would be much longer. That he had to be strong. For what? What were they going to do that was so much worse than anything he’d already been through?

 Maybe that was what she had been talking about. He couldn’t give in now. But simply breathing was so hard to do. The feeling of the hands and the sounds of the voices were slowly diminishing and he felt himself sinking deeper and deeper. He needed to stay close to the surface! This wasn’t right. This wasn’t supposed to happen!

It had never happened before.

Breathing was essential, he remembered that. He tried to focus all his energy on that seemingly simple task. He wouldn’t let the monsters win now. He had lost everything to them, but he wouldn’t let them take this.

He counted to ten.

And she was there.

Her image was blurry and unclear. She appeared like a ghost; no longer peaceful and beautiful, but as tormented as he was.  Tears were running down her face, leaving black streaks from her eyes to her chin. There was no warmth, no love, only agony in her eyes. He wanted to reach out to her, but couldn’t move. She looked sick and hurt and he could read the pain and fear from her eyes just as much as he felt it himself.

They were broken souls; both of them.

“What are their names, Brian?” she screamed and he shrunk back in fear.

She repeated herself, her voice giving out halfway through her sentence. He shook his head. Why was she doing this to him? What had happened to her? Had he done this? Why was she so mad?

He tried desperately to remember the last time she’d come here. How beautiful her long hair had been, and how soft her touches on his face. He had loved her with everything he had, even if he did not remember who she was. She was real to him. And now she was screaming and yelling at him and he heard other voices screaming and yelling too. Hands were touching him - _he did not like being touched-_ and he was wrapped in a clean blanket.

And she was gone.

There were others though. Not the monsters he remembered, but that didn’t say anything. He didn’t remember a lot of things. The basement was light, even through closed eyes, he noticed. Why was everything so bright?

He gasped and squirmed slightly before his energy ran out. Where had the monsters taken him? Why couldn’t they leave him alone for just one day?

“No no, kid. Keep breathing,” A voice said close to his head and he jerked away in fear. He let out a distressed moan and then something was placed over his face, suddenly making it easier to breathe. His movements stilled and his eyes fluttered open. He stared in the face of a man who was smiling down at him. Next to him was another man, with tears silently streaming down his face. They looked at him like they knew him and he stared back in confusion.

_What are their names?_

 


	26. January 13th - Gasp

_January 13th_

                AJ felt an incredible sense of relief when he saw Brian open his eyes and looking up at him. He couldn’t help but smile and take his friend’s bony hand, softly squeezing it. “Hey, it’s okay,” he said softly. Brian blinked at him with unfocused eyes before his head rolled to the side. He was having trouble breathing despite the oxygen mask on his face, and AJ nervously squeezed his hand again. They had tried, but there was no way in hell that Brian was stable enough to be moved, let alone be on a confined helicopter. Instead they’d lain him down on a stretcher in one of the rooms. Right now, the paramedics were trying to focus on getting him stable enough for the trip to the helicopter, which was parked quite a walk away. Due to the density of the forest, the helicopter had been forced to park in the nearest open field in the woods, almost one mile from the cottage. Morson and Crane were still in the disgusting basement, taking evidence and removing Thomas’ body.

                Brian’s anguished and pained gasps tore at AJ’s very soul and he swallowed thickly, looking up when Nick returned to the room with a couple of washcloths and a can of water. AJ nodded wordlessly, taking one of the wet, cold washcloths and placing it on Brian’s overheated forehead. The older man moaned when the coldness harshly contrasted with his fever-ridden skin. He gasped and his body stiffened, his bare feet scrambling uselessly over the end of the stretcher.  

                “Easy kiddo, just settle down,” the paramedic that had introduced himself as Peterson coaxed. It wasn’t hard to keep the boy down, considering his emaciated body possessed almost no strength at all. But AJ could read the utter fear on Brian’s face, and it felt terribly wrong to restrain him, although it was probably for the best. He didn’t want Brian to hurt himself even worse.

“Oh God,” Nick muttered, “Look at that shoulder.”

AJ tried hard not to look at all the injuries that were in plain sight. The helpless anger he felt was boiling over the top whenever he laid eyes on the countless bruises and infected cuts on Brian’s upper body. There were even some burns and they made him feel sick. But the worst was the left shoulder, which, quite frankly, didn’t even look like a shoulder anymore. Even through all the swelling and discoloring, AJ could clearly see that it was dislocated and obviously had been for quite some time. The entire arm was limp and unusable and whenever Brian moved to jerk away from their touches, his arm just flopped lifelessly next to his side. AJ wished there was a way to comfort the broken singer, but Brian would have none of it, completely in panic and having no idea what was happening to him. His breath hitched in his throat and he coughed weakly. A few small bubbles of red formed at the corner of his mouth and then slowly slid down. That couldn’t be a good sign, AJ thought in alarm and looked up. “He’s bleeding!”

“Damnit,” Peterson muttered and looked at his colleague, “I’m gonna need another IV. He’s completely dehydrated and completely burning up. He’s at 106 degrees. We really need to get him out of here. Now!”

The other paramedic nodded, but before they could move, Brian’s body jerked and he became completely rigid, his eyes rolling back so that only the white were still visible. Nick yelped and AJ felt his throat tighten in shock. Peterson quickly took his penlight and shone in Brian’s eyes placing a hand on the tensed singer’s chest. “Shit,” he cursed, grabbing the boy’s good shoulder and rolling him on his side, “He’s seizing! Must be the high fever. We gotta keep him on his side. You,” he pointed at Nick, “get some more water!”

Nick nodded quickly and disappeared from the room again, AJ looked at the paramedics with large eyes, “What about me? What do I do?”

“Nothing,” the other paramedic, whose name AJ didn’t remember, replied, “we don’t really need water, but we gave him something to do, because your friend over there seemed on the verge of a breakdown.”

 _Him and me both,_ AJ thought when Brian began to shake and convulse on the stretcher. It didn’t take long before his body stilled and his eyes closed. He took a few faltering breaths, but then that stopped too. Peterson and his co-worker noticed immediately and without panic or hesitation, they inserted a tube that looked far too large for AJ’s taste in Brian’s throat, attaching some kind of balloon type thing to it that forced air into the sick man’s lungs. AJ gasped for air, grabbing his hair in frustration as he realized that Brian may not even make it all the way to the helicopter. How was that even possible? How could they find him alive, to just watch him die not even twenty five minutes later?

“We gotta go now, before he crashes!” Peterson said right when Nick returned into the room with an even bigger can of water than before. He dropped it immediately when he saw how much worse his friend’s condition had gotten in the three minutes he’d been out of the room. The glass shattered in thousands of pieces on the floor and AJ felt it was quite metaphorical.

They hurried through the woods, trying to keep the stretcher steady as much as possible. Brian had returned to a motionless state, his eyes closed and his skin even paler in the full daylight. AJ tried to keep contact, his hand lying on top of Brian’s head as his fingers slipped through his friend’s messy, dirty hair. It had grown just slightly longer than normal, and AJ figured it must have been cut regularly for that. Even the beard seemed not more than a week old, two at most.

By the time they reached the helicopter, Brian was completely unresponsive. The paramedics made quick work of getting the stretcher inside and apologizing that no, they couldn’t come with, because there was no room. Nick had wanted to protest, but AJ had just dragged him back and watched the helicopter take off.

He didn’t know why, but at one point, his knees buckled and he sank to the forest ground. He kept his eyes trained on the disappearing helicopter though until it was entirely gone.

_Brian hated helicopters._

A sob left his throat when he thought about that. Nick saw him sitting on the ground and came to his side, kneeling down.

“You okay?” He asked numbly.

“No,” AJ choked.

“Me neither,” Nick admitted, wrapping his arm with the cast around his friend.


	27. January 15th - Numb

_January 15th_

She didn’t know what to feel. She had all the possible emotions carefully lined up in her mind, but was somehow unable to allow herself to feel them. She felt utterly numb, which was odd, considering she had dreamt of this for two months. She had dreamt of seeing him again, of the moment she could touch him, talk to him or just be with him again.

Leighanne and Brian. That was how it was supposed to be.

But this wasn’t Brian. Not really. He didn’t even look like him. The man in this bed was an imposter. It just couldn’t be him. She had to tell herself that it was, though, cause everyone around her kept saying it.

When he’d disappeared, she’d felt like she was falling. Her family had told her to have faith, and she had. In the beginning at least. Nick had come back, so Brian would too. When that didn’t happen, she tried to find out about things on her own. She didn’t come far though, and couldn’t help but blaming Nick for all of it. After all, he had left Brian there on his own, practically for dead.

Wouldn’t be the first time either.

But she couldn’t stay mad at the world forever. Sure, they had just been married a year ago, and they had been crazily happy for years, despite the stress of the hectic lifestyle they’d been living. She hadn’t even told her sisters yet, but they’d been trying to have a baby too, a perfect continuation of their love. A boy, she hoped, if God allowed it. She knew Brian wanted a girl, but oh well, she’d be happy either way.

And then one phone call from Kevin had taken it all away. He’d told her not to worry, but Nick and Brian hadn’t made it to the airport for whatever reason. He said he would kick their asses when they got back, to make sure they never made everyone stress like this again, because for _God’s sake,_ hadn’t they had enough of this from AJ yet? She had barely been able to wrench a word in between Kevin’s nonstop talking, which was strange, cause Kevin wasn’t known to be a fast talker, unless he was severely stressed out. A few hours after the call, the whole circus had started. All of a sudden, Brian and Nick weren’t _late_ anymore, they were just _gone._ Nobody seemed to have a clue where they were and everyone was freaking out. Howie said they’d gone golfing, last he knew. The golf club and its members had been questioned to death, but nobody had seen anything suspicious. And when the media caught wind of the situation, everybody seemed to go stir crazy. She’d seen crying and screaming fans on TV, heard them cry out for Nick and Brian to come back.

And then Nick did come back, after three whole days of being missing, he came back. She’d felt a huge sense of relief then, glad that it was over. If Nick was back, then Brian couldn’t be far behind, could he?

Yes, yes he could.

It took months, and she had never in her wildest dreams thought she could be so alone, so separated from the world she lived in. Everything people tried to tell her sounded hollow and distant, like she wasn’t really there, like they didn’t really mean it. She’d been a shadow, a pathetic excuse for the woman she’d once been. She’d locked herself away, holding on to that last thread of hope she still had that her husband was still somewhere out there. She had promised herself that she could hold on to that hope, as long as she didn’t know for sure that he was gone. He wasn’t dead. He couldn’t be.

She would know.

The remaining Backstreet Boys mostly stayed away from her, and she had hatefully thought that it was because they were afraid to get more involved, afraid to feel the devastation she was feeling, because they were cowards. But after a month she knew they were just trying to leave her be, to keep the circus of media attention away from her as much as possible. She’d been grateful for that, until she found out they were trying to hide something from her. Like they knew more than they said. She had confronted Kevin one evening, but he refused to admit it. Howie had been the same. Nick didn’t talk much as a rule, so no luck there, but AJ could never keep his mouth shut.

He’d told her about the videos and what they were.

She’d felt absolutely disgusted, unable to sleep, while she had begged the God she trusted why he could let one of his devoted children go through such a terrible ordeal. What on earth had Brian done to deserve this? What had she done? And when she couldn’t think of a single answer, she decided to stop begging for one. Instead, she had let the numb feeling take over as she watched from the sidelines. She saw how Brian’s parents desperately clung to each other for support, how his brother was slowly losing the cheerful twinkle in his eyes, how Nick appeared with a brand new cast around his hand one day, how Howie looked ten years older than he actually was, how Kevin had grown quiet and distant, and how AJ threw everything he’d learnt in rehab to the wind.

The holidays were the worst. And although she was sure she would treasure the memories of Brian asking her to marry him only two years before, now they stung and taunted her. At new year’s, she had made sure she was alone, and had just grabbed a bottle of wine to let herself sink into a drunken haze of nothingness. It barely brought relief, but it was better the stabbing memories of candle lit dinners, of Brian’s voice, singing to her like only he could. Of the gigantic smile on his face when she accepted his proposal. Of the way he had picked her up and swung her around like she was a little school girl. Of the way he had kissed her, so gently and told her that he would never let her go. She vaguely remembered staring at a picture of them, taken right after their wedding. Their bright faces had grinned at her, the happiness of their fairy tale evident in their eyes. She had stared at it, mesmerized, only to throw the picture with its glass frame across the bedroom with a snarl. The frame had shattered and it had felt very appropriate.

Then all of a sudden, everything changed a few days later. Again, it was Kevin that called. He told her an incomprehensive story about another videotape and coordinates and AJ and Nick checking it out. After that, it all went in dizzying speed. She’d been told to hurry to a hospital in Minnesota. _Come quick,_ they had said.

The doctors were not hopeful. They were doing everything they could, but the infection was very far progressed. Brian was too sick, too weak to fight it. That, and the dehydration and severe starvation were enough to cause a very grim prognosis. They promised to try and keep him comfortable at this point, but that was about all they could do.

Leighanne didn’t blame them. And although keeping Brian comfortable required him to be unconscious, she was glad that at least he wasn’t suffering at the moment. He had slipped into a coma a few hours ago and she would be stupid to think that he would ever wake up from it. Maybe that was for the best. Maybe he could just slowly and softly slip away. It was more than a miracle that he had even made it this far, the doctors had said so themselves. There wasn’t ever much hope to begin with. Maybe it was just better if he finally got some peace.

But she didn’t want that. The totally selfish part of her soul wanted him to wake up, to see that he’d made it. If he had to die, she wanted him to know that he didn’t die in that basement, that he’d been saved and was surrounded by the people that loved him. She wanted him to know that she had never given up on him, not even when all the odds screamed that she should. She wanted him to hold on, to stay strong.

_For just a little while longer._


	28. January 16th - Wait

_January 16th_

_“_ I hate this place, _”_ Nick grumbled in a low voice.

“You mean this particular place or hospitals in general?” Howie replied just as quietly.

“What are we even supposed to do here?” Nick continued to complain, “They won’t let us near him. We’ve been waiting all these months, and they won’t even let us near him!” The emotion in his voice was undisguised and raw. Howie knew how he felt. In times like these, everybody felt the same. It made for a great bonding time, though the circumstances may be quite tragic.

Three years ago, going to visit a friend in the hospital was the last thing on their mind. Not that they never thought about Brian during his absence then, but the idea of seeing him so weak and so scared was a very off-putting factor. They’d been scared and selfish, using the excuse of their unrelenting schedule, and Brian had held it against them for quite a long time. Howie didn’t know if the younger man had ever really forgiven them.

Not like it mattered now. Howie had seen only brief glances of Brian when they’d brought him in three days earlier. He’d looked terrifying and Howie hadn’t been sure if he was dead or alive. Nick and AJ had arrived a few hours later, completely disconcerted and looking like they’d seen a ghost.

The doctors had said right then that there was little to no hope of Brian pulling through this ordeal. The next few hours would be crucial. Brian had survived, trembling with fever and struggling against unknown bonds. They’d made sure they kept him sedated after that particular stressful night. Leighanne said he’d gone into a coma yesterday. That it wouldn’t be much longer now.

“I just wish there was a way to say goodbye,” Howie stated solemnly.

“Fuck you,” Nick grumbled, “You already said goodbye.”

Howie frowned, but didn’t say anything. He shouldn’t have expected Nick to be over that by now, but he had. “I’m sorry,” he said softly.

Nick sighed and looked up, “Why does it have to feel so bad?”

“I don’t know,” he muttered, defeat evident in his voice.

“I don’t want this, D,” Nick cried softly, “This was never supposed to happen. How did this happen to us?”

Howie wished that the younger man would stop asking questions no one could answer. He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it when he saw Brian’s older brother Harold step out of the room. He had a lost and forlorn look on his face, but his expression changed when he saw Nick and Howie sitting in the waiting area.

“You’re still here,” he stated with a sense of surprise in his voice.

Howie nodded silently and Nick took a deep breath, “How...?”

“Not good,” Harry mumbled, sitting down next to Howie, “He looks so bad. I just... I had to get out of there for a moment.”

The other two nodded in understanding. Howie felt his stomach tightening with worry. “I really hate to ask this, but could you...”

Harold looked at him, already knowing what he meant, “I don’t know. They’re keeping visitations very restricted. Maybe you guys should go home.”

“But he’s our friend!” Nick said and Howie could easily hear the poorly disguised emotions in his voice. “I mean... I know that he hates us for not being there last time, but we are now! He should know that! He can’t die without knowing that!”

“Don’t talk like that,” Harold said softly, “He’s fighting for his life right now, and he doesn’t need you talking about dying.”

“I’m just saying-” Nick countered, his voice rising.

“This isn’t about you, Nick!” Harold snapped and Nick frowned, shrinking back. Harry sighed and his shoulders slumped, “It doesn’t matter, don’t you understand? He doesn’t recognize anyone anymore and he’s been scared out of his mind. That coma may actually be for the best.”

“Oh God,” Howie muttered, “I had no idea how bad it was.”

“You couldn’t have,” Harry grumbled, “I’m sorry. I’ll see if I can let you in.”

“Thanks,” Nick whispered, a faraway look on his face.

Harold nodded and stood up. “Just wait here... I guess.”

Howie and Nick watched him go into the room again and waited. Like they had done for days. Like they would continue to do for days. They waited, and waited. For news. For life, or death. Howie didn’t know exactly what he was waiting for. But he did know that if Brian survived, the next part would be the hardest of them all.


	29. Date: Unknown - Heal

_There was a young man laying on the bed. The bed was clean and smelled of disinfectant. Everything around him was a stark white color, all as clean as the bed he lay in. The young man had been shaven, washed and his hair had been cut short._

_He was aware of none of this._

_His face was as white as the sheets and the walls surrounding him. The dark circles around his eyes and the red feverish flush on his cheeks the only colors that stood out. His left shoulder and right hand were heavily bandaged, but would eventually need surgery. The young man lay completely still, unfazed by the noisy machines and uncomfortable wires and tubes. The cuts and burns on his skin had been cleaned and were slowly healing after three months. His fever was still high, but not as dangerous as it had been before._

_And the young man slept._

_He was completely unaware of his mother and father keeping a close watch over him. His father stayed completely silent, holding his son’s hand and watching closely for any sign of life. His mother touched her son’s sunken face, and talked softly to him. She didn’t say much. Usually small, unimportant things. She talked a lot about the weather, and about the people from church. His father would hum sometimes. Melodies he knew from his own childhood and that he had passed down to his children when they were still young. Melodies that defined a lifetime and would never be forgotten._

_He remembered teaching his sons those songs. His oldest usually sang them very well, but with great disinterest. It was alright, he’d only been seven at the time. His youngest had been four and would do anything to please his father. His voice had been untrained and uncontrollable. He would sing them loudly and incredibly off-key, but he would pour his four year old heart and soul in each song. The boy had been pumped when he was finally allowed to join the church choir and his father had been proud of the wonderful sounds that his voice could produce from the start._

_“That boy has a gift,” the children’s choir director would tell him one day. His father had smiled and nodded, beaming with pride. That was his son._

_The father shivered from the cool air in the hospital room. He squeezed his son’s hand a bit tighter, almost feeling the weak bones snap in his fingers. He felt a wave of absolute despair when he thought about how his child had been ruined to the very core, if he had to believe what Kevin and the others had said. How could anyone do this to another human being... just for fun?_

_The father chose not to dwell on those thoughts for now. He had spent the week hoping, praying and begging for a good outcome. The mother had as well. She felt helpless, watching her son breathing. It was clear that it cost him great effort. She let her fingers wander over his pale face and tried to ignore the strong sense of deja vu. She touched his hair, which was cut extremely short. Still, a few of the bald spots that had been caused by the extreme malnourishment were visible. She was glad his nails and teeth were looking better though. The image of the horrific state Brian had arrived in would haunt her for the rest of her days. It had scared her to her very core. Now, he was getting a little better each day, and she tried to hold on to that. She tried to help him in each way possible. He was so strong, and she wished there was a way to let him know how proud she was of him. How proud they all were of him._

_The young man was unconscious, and he would remain unconscious for quite some time. In a way, that was better. It allowed him to heal, to hide from the immense trauma that he had been put through. The people around him were patient. They supported him in every way that they could, even if it felt like it didn’t mean anything. The young man could sense them. He knew he was surrounded by people. He didn’t know what those people wanted and he was kind of scared to find that out. He didn’t know what was happening to him, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been awake. Still too weak to open his eyes and face the world. The only thing he could do now was sleep._

_His dreams consisted of strange colors and unspecified forms. They were primal and terrifying, looming over him always. But sometimes, he could hear her voice. It was the one thing he would never forget. The exact way that her voice sounded, the intonations and volumes that were so characteristic, it couldn’t be anything else than hers. He loved it, he longed for it. It was the only thing that chased the colors and forms away. The only thing that kept him solidly grounded. He couldn’t actually see her, but he knew she was there, just out of reach. She talked to him in soft, heavenly words. He didn’t understand any of them, but that didn’t matter. Just the quiet hum that accompanied her voice was more than enough to put him at ease._

_Sometimes, though, he heard her cry. He didn’t know why and would do anything to make it stop, only to find out that he couldn’t. He had found out long ago that there was no way for him to interact with her world. The world of sounds outside of his dark nightmares. A world that had touched him and hurt him so badly, that he never wanted to go back._

_But she was still there._

_The world could still hurt her. The world probably would hurt her if he wasn’t there. So he stayed. He stayed for her voice, for her soft words that chased the forms and colors away. He held onto her with everything he had._

_And she did the same._

_She could feel how much he needed her. He was different somehow whenever she came in the room. His heartbeat rose and he seemed to know she was there. He didn’t react to anyone else, except her. She would stay with him for most of the day, until someone sent her home. There she would sleep for a few hours and then she would return. She was patient; she waited and tried to stay positive. He was getting better, a fact that had been beyond her wildest dreams. She was so thankful for that, she praised the Lord or whoever was up there for watching over him._


	30. Scream

_January 20th_

His head snapping up, Nick took a deep breath. He groaned slightly as he rubbed his tired eyes with the back of his hand. Looking at his watch, he muttered incredulously as he realized he’d actually fallen asleep. Nick sat upright, stretched and then sank back into the hard, uncomfortable chair. He sighed, his aching muscles complaining as he turned to look at Kevin, who stared at him while thoughtfully stirring his morning coffee.

“Good morning,” Kevin mumbled slowly.

Nick squinted through sleepy eyes, “How long have I been sleeping?”

Kevin studied him for a few moments before answering, “About three hours.”

“Three h...,” Nick frowned and fell silent. He looked at the abandoned baseball cap at the foot of the bed. That used to be his, but it was much more Brian’s now. They’d found it in the basement when... Nick shook his head. It wasn’t so much that he’d fallen asleep for three hours, it was more the fact that no nightmares had occurred in that entire period that struck him. He looked at the bed uncertainly, “Has he..?”

Kevin cocked his head to the side and gave him an exasperated look, “What do you think?”

“Right,” Nick mumbled. He hesitated slightly before taking Brian’s hand back in his own hand. It was fairly cool, he noticed. He let Brian’s limp fingers slide against his own, careful not to move the infected shoulder. Not that Brian would feel it, not that he would even notice it. He had been unconscious for over a week now. In the beginning, it made sense. He’d been dying then, he’d gotten worse and worse until the point that Nick knew that his best friend could die in any second. Of course he would be unconscious.

But then, he’d started to get better.

Slowly, agonizingly slowly, his condition had begun to improve. His skin got more color, his fever begun to break and he was able to breathe without any assistance again. Nick gave his hand a soft, encouraging squeeze, trying to convey how proud he was. Brian didn’t react in any way. Nick took a deep breath, feeling Kevin looking at him.

“You want coffee?” the older man asked quietly.

Nick looked at him, and then began to stretch again. “No thanks, Mom,” he muttered and winced as he felt his back crack, “I am going to need physical therapy because of these chairs.”

Kevin shook his head and mumbled something unclear as he took his pen back up from where he’d left it on the covers of the bed. Nick looked at the notebook that was splayed across Kevin’s lap and smirked.

“Look! He’s writing in that notebook again, Brian. I think he’s got issues.”

Nick couldn’t be sure, but he swore he actually heard Kevin growl at him just then. His smirk spread even wider. “He growls and mumbles a lot too. What do you think? Should we be concerned?”

Kevin rolled his eyes, his pen hovering over the empty page. He thought for a moment, and then hurriedly wrote something down.

“What do you figure he’s writing about, Bri?” Nick asked in a conspiring tone. “I bet he’s writing about us. He’s got a lot of frustrations, that old man. What is he writing about? Is he going to publish a novel or something?”

“I do not assume that that is the business of you two,” Kevin drawled slowly.

“Maybe we should steal his book, then we’ll figure it out,” Nick mused, squeezing Brian’s hand tightly in excitement, “you know, just like how we used to steal his socks and threw them away to-”

“You did what?!” Kevin interjected fiercely.

“Don’t look at me,” Nick replied in a high voice, “It was his idea!” He smiled as he pointed at Brian, squeezing his hand again. Kevin paused a second, and then smiled. He could see what Nick was trying to do. It was brilliant, actually. So simple, but it might be so effective at the same time. Brian was used to the banter between his bandmates, it was something he was ultimately familiar with. If they could flood his senses with memories like that, it might stimulate him enough to wake up.

Here was to wishful thinking, at least.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve spend looking for those socks, Brian?” Kevin said with a smile, but kept his voice strong and stern.

“He’s very fond of his socks, Bri, I told you that,” Nick supplied.

“I am not done with you either,” Kevin grumbled.

“What did you write, Kevin?” Nick asked again.

“Don’t change the subject on me like that. You two are buying me new socks, understood?”

“Sir, yes, sir!” Nick said, saluting stiffly, squeezing again with his other hand.

Kevin shook his head again, turning the notebook to another empty page and scribbling something down again. Then he lifted the book up and turned it around for Nick to read it.

“GROW UP,” Nick read, squinting at the letters. “Aw, that’s cute. That’s really... I thought it would be worse actually, but that... that’s cute. You know what he wrote, Bri? He told us to grow up. Isn’t that the cutest thing you’ve seen all day?”

“You two are impossible,” Kevin grumbled quietly.

“What was that?” Nick asked with a smile that split his face in two. “Hold on, Bri, I think he’s trying to insult us. What did ya say, Kev?”

“I said you two are impossible!” Kevin said, quite a bit louder this time. He looked at Nick challengingly, but the younger man had suddenly turned away and stared at Brian. The smile had completely vanished from his features, replaced by a tensed look of fixation. He lifted Brian’s hand and enveloped it with both of his own hands in a gentle, but firm grip.

“Bri, can you hear me?” Nick asked, suddenly completely serious. Kevin frowned, trying to determine what had caused the sudden change. Nick seemed to have forgotten he was there in the room with him though. His eyes were trained on Brian’s face with an intense gaze. “You can do this, buddy, come on. Just squeeze again if you can hear me, come on.”

Kevin’s eyes widened and he began to concentrate on Brian’s face as well. “Did he...?”

“Ssh!” Nick hissed.

“We should get a doctor!”

“Come on, Brian. You can hear me, I know you can,” Nick spoke sternly, squeezing softly again, “We gotta buy Kevin new socks, remember? I don’t think he’s gonna let us off the hook just cause you don’t want to wake up.”

Nick’s heart sped up when he felt Brian’s hand moving against his again. He felt a sob of relief rise in his throat. Kevin jumped up and ran out of the room to get a nurse. Nick laughed softly as he saw Brian’s eyes flutter. It took a few seconds for them to fully open. It took another three minutes for Brian to focus on Nick’s face. With growing confusion, Nick noticed Brian’s entire body tensing up as he studied Nick’s face.

Nick had about two seconds to back away before Brian started screaming.


	31. Clean

_January 20th_

Kevin roughly shoved a stunned Nick into an empty room and shut the door behind him. “What did you do?” he hissed.

Nick looked at him with wide eyes, an expression of utter shock still present on his face, “Nothing,” he said in an uncharacteristically high pitch of voice. “I didn’t do anything!”

“Then what the hell happened in there?” Kevin demanded, flailing his arms towards the hallway angrily.

“I don’t know!” Nick shrieked, panic intertwining into his words, “I didn’t do anything, I swear! I swear, Kevin!”

Kevin’s jaw clenched and he held Nick’s gaze with an intense glare, “What happened, Nick?”

“I don’t know,” Nick repeated, unable to suppress a sob from escaping his throat, “you went out of the room and he woke up and he went totally crazy when he saw me! I didn’t do anything to him, Kev! You have to believe me, I didn’t hurt him, I wouldn’t ever hurt him! I wouldn’t hurt him, Kev! I swear!”

Kevin’s expression softened as he watched Nick tremble and saw the tears stream down the younger singer’s face.  Nick had backed away and Kevin cursed himself for being so harsh on him. He moved closer with an apologetic look, “I know that, Nick. I know you wouldn’t hurt him. I never meant to imply that. I’m sorry.”

Nick shut his eyes tightly, the shock of what had happened suddenly overwhelming him, and his shoulder started to shake as the sobs overtook him. Kevin sighed and put a hand on the young man’s shoulder to guide him into one of the empty plastic chairs in the dark coffee room. Somehow, he’d hoped Nick had actually done something to evoke such a violent reaction in Brian. Because if this was how Brian was going to react when people were just _around_ him, they had a bigger problem than Kevin could have ever imagined. He’d been able to hear his cousin from three rooms over, the raw, anguished screams echoing through the otherwise quiet hospital halls. Nick continued to cry silently beside him, his shoulders jerking with his stuttering breaths.

“Why’d he d-do that?” Nick stuttered miserably.

“Maybe he didn’t recognize you?” Kevin tried, his voice soft and unsure.

“He’s known me for more than eight years,” Nick whimpered, covering his face with his hands, “and he looked at me like I was going to kill him. I didn’t do anything, Kev!”

“I know, I know,” Kevin muttered, helplessly staring a hole into the opposite wall, “I don’t think we can even imagine what is going on in his mind now.”

“What do we do?” Nick asked quietly.

Kevin didn’t answer, but Nick noticed his shoulders slumping. He bit his lip and took a deep breath to try and get himself under control. Without a word, he stood up and left the room. Kevin sighed as he watched Nick leave.

\-----------

_Date: unknown_

The basement was bright; much and much too bright. Now, darkness, he could handle. Darkness was consistent and usually, if he stayed in the shadows and didn’t move, darkness wouldn’t hurt him. It was when the light flooded through that the monsters came down to get him. And the further they took him, the brighter it got.

And it was very bright right now. Everything was white and the basement didn’t look like the basement. He flinched with each sound; his eyes frantically searching for any sign of the monster he was sure couldn’t be far away. He remembered the last time he’d awoken in this brightness only vaguely. A face had been staring at him with tears in its eyes. Brian didn’t remember if he’d ever seen this monster before, but the way it had been staring at him was so intense that he’d been sure of its foul intentions. He didn’t know what else to do than to scream and squirm wildly. Somehow, the monster had shrunk back with a stunned expression and had yelled something to the monsters behind it, that Brian hadn’t noticed until then.

Suddenly, the basement had been flooded with monsters and Brian had screamed even louder, thrashing on the soft surface he was lying on to try and scramble back from the monsters’ faces that got closer and closer. He’d cried out in fear when they grabbed him, he’d fought back with energy he was sure he hadn’t possessed in a long time. But it didn’t matter.

A sting in his arm.

Then darkness returned. Darkness was quiet. Quiet was good.

And now it was bright again. And it smelled strange. The stinking smell in the basement that he’d become so used to was gone. And he could discern things that hadn’t been in the basement before. He seemed to be in a bed; a very clean bed. With spreading confusion, he looked down.

He was clean.

The torn, filthy wife beater he’d been forced to wear for so long was no longer loosely hanging around his bony torso. Instead, he touched the clean material of a white t-shirt. The broken radiators were gone as well, seemingly replaced by a few chairs and some creepy looking machinery, which Brian feared would be used for torture later. The place where water used to seep through the cracks of the basement was now a stark white wall, with a picture of a plant. Brian squinted and frowned when he looked at it; it seemed oddly out of place. The stairs from which the monsters had always come to get him; the stairs from which he’d watched Thomas fall down after the younger boy had gotten shot, they were no longer there. Brian stiffened, swallowing nervously as he watched the closed door and the blinded window with growing fascination.

This was not the basement.

And there were no monsters around.

Brian drew in a shaky breath, trying to determine if this was a dream or not. He touched his face with cold, trembling fingers which were heavily bandaged. The beard was gone and his hair was short. He experimentally touched his left shoulder -which was wrapped in bandages as well- and flinched.

This was not a dream.

There was a strange looking needle protruding from his motionless left hand and he panicked when he saw it. Without a further thought, he grabbed it the best he could, and roughly pulled it out. Was that how it was going to be now? Was that how they were going to get drugs into him now? His hand was starting to bleed, adorning the white covers with specks of blood, but he didn’t care. He needed to get off this bed. The monsters would most likely use it to keep him lying down while carving and hitting and ramming their...

He shivered when he threw the covers off his legs. With a lot of effort he managed to pull them over the side, so that they now were dangling right above the ground. He sighed, suddenly overwhelmed by a wave of exhaustion. What was he doing? The door was probably locked. Clenching his teeth, he slowly slid down the edge of the bed anyway until one of his feet was touching the ground. He whimpered when he felt most of his weight was now supported by his broken hand and hurriedly shifted until he was standing on his feet, beside the bed.

For three seconds.

His knees gave out underneath him and he crumbled to the ground with a loud yell. Suddenly, he was on the floor, lying on his stomach and grimacing as his hurt shoulder protested with every move. He could see the door opening and drew in a sharp breath, his heart suddenly beating madly in his chest. If the monsters saw he was trying to escape, they would be unbelievable angry. More angry than normally anyway. Panicking, he hoisted himself up until he was supported by one arm and two knees and scrambled to get under the bed.

From his hiding place, he could see the monster’s legs. It wasn’t moving, but he could hear it mutter for a few seconds, and then it yelled something. Brian held his breath and waited, wondering if he should start screaming or not. Then the door opened and other monsters filed in and Brian gasped, slowly inching backwards until he felt the wall behind him. He curled up and closed his eyes, shaking violently as he heard the monsters get closer.

They grabbed him, he screamed, they pulled him from his hiding spot, he lashed out.

A sting in his arm.

Then the darkness returned.


	32. Kill

_January 24th_

Howie numbly watched the tiles on the ground as he only listened half to what Johnny was saying.

“I’m at a loss here, guys,” the manager sighed, “they found him under the bed again yesterday, for fuck’s sake. Ripped out his IV and everything.”

Howie grimaced. He felt the bile rise in his throat whenever he tried to really think about their situation. He heard Nick mutter something and cringed at the younger man’s expression. He wasn’t usually prone to crying, but he seemed to have given up on that, considering the redness of his eyes. The undisguised hopelessness Howie saw in his expression was something he was familiar with.

Johnny looked at the four of them and sighed, shaking his head. “Anyway, we have written an official statement regarding the group and we need your guys approval to publish it.”

Howie nodded. It was the only thing he could keep his mind on right now, the business. It was cut and clear and there was a lot of things to be taken care of in that department. They’d all agreed that the group would go on an indefinite hiatus. Because going on without Brian like this would be stab in the face and felt so fundamentally wrong, that there had been no protest from anybody when they’d made the decision.

“Looks alright,” Kevin mumbled, hurriedly giving the paper back to Johnny.

Johnny nodded slowly, “Now, has anybody tried to see Brian since he woke up?”

“I tried,” AJ said, clearing his throat, “they won’t let nobody in.”

“Nobody?” Howie asked with a frown.

“Not even his family,” AJ grumbled gloomily.

“Why?”

“Cause he freaks out when somebody enters, anybody. Did you not get that memo?”

“Jesus.”

“It’s bad,” Johnny agreed, “He’ll try to get out when he’s left on his own, and he goes berserk when somebody enters the room. There’s just no winning there. They’re talking about having him restrained.”

“What?” AJ snarled angrily. “They can’t restrain him! He’s been restrained for over three months, see what that has caused!”

“He’s actually dangerous, Alex,” Johnny said calmly, “he lashes out if people get too close, and he’s hurt himself more than once. He doesn’t know where he is, he doesn’t recognize anybody; now that he’s free, he’s like a caged wild animal. They actually have to have him sedated when they need to examine or treat him.”

“It’s not fair, it’s not his fault,” AJ said roughly.

“I know,” Howie said quietly, “but this doesn’t sound like something we can fix. He needs help, more than we can give him.”

Johnny nodded, “They’re gonna transfer him to the psychiatric ward soon.”

“Oh God,” Nick groaned.

“They can help him,” Howie said.

“Hopefully,” Kevin muttered.

“It’s gonna take time, Kev,” Howie said.

“You think I don’t know that?” Kevin sighed, “It’s just... this whole situation stinks, so much.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Why doesn’t he even recognize us?” Nick asked, speaking up for the first time since the meeting started. “I mean, he’s known us for almost nine years. He’s known his family his entire life! Why is he so hostile?”

Johhny shrugged, “Doctor Anderson isn’t sure. This is one of the worse cases of PTSD she’s ever come across or heard of, she says. And the drugs he’s been forced to take during the past few months, there’s a chance they have likely caused significant brain damage. It could have led to memory loss, epilepsy or personality changes. If that’s true, he may never return to the guy we know.”

“So what are we supposed to do now?” Nick grumbled, giving Johnny an intense glare, “We supposed to just... give up on him? How do we help him?”

“I don’t think it’s in our hands to be able to help him,” Howie repeated patiently, “Not yet anyway. We’ll have to wait until Brian even lets anyone help him.”

 

\----------------

_January 28th_

Happy Birthday, Nick thought as he opened the door to the darkened room. By pure luck, they’d figured out that Brian acted calmer if the room was dark. Everything with him was trial and error these days. He reminded Nick of a scared animal sometimes. But now Brian was so doped up, he couldn’t even move. He just stared; and blinked slowly. A lifeless expression in his eyes as he followed Nick without focus. Nick moved slowly, making sure not to make any sudden movements that could set his friend off. Brian’s stress levels had been so high; they were putting his recovery in jeopardy. The tranquilizers doctor Anderson had prescribed worked remarkably well. His hair had grown back and the bruises and cuts had started to fade from his skin. He was still not gaining weight though, and it would be a long time before his emaciated features would start to look normal again. His hollow eyes lay sunken in their sockets and almost every bone could be seen underneath his skin. Nick had found it incredibly hard to get used to Brian’s appearance. But he didn’t let it stop him.

Nick slowly took a seat a few feet away from the bed and looked at the wall opposite from him for a while. He didn’t move or speak, slowly letting Brian get used to his presence. He waited until the older man stopped tensing up whenever Nick looked at him and then got a little closer. He grimaced at the bands around Brian’s wrists. They were white and brown and Nick thought they should only be used on crazy people, not on Brian; not on somebody that had been bound in a horrible basement for over three months. It seemed cruel.

But Brian wasn’t struggling against them like he had done in the beginning. He just lay there; observing Nick with a small hint of fear still in his eyes.

“It’s alright, bro,” Nick said softly, feeling the stone drop in his stomach as Brian jerked slightly at the sound of his voice, “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

He waited until Brian relaxed before continuing, “It’s my birthday today, remember?” he said, staring into Brian’s vacant eyes. He sighed, “Your birthday is coming up next, buddy, so prepare your butt.” Nick smiled sadly, wondering if Brian would even remember his own birthday.  He wanted to cry when he noticed Brian trying to move away from him, “Don’t worry, buddy,” he mumbled resignedly, “I won’t touch you. I’ll leave if you want. Just thought you’d like to know that the police found the beast that did this to you. He’s dead. He killed himself. Probably felt the FBI breathing down his neck and couldn’t take it any longer.”

Brian’s expression didn’t change and Nick wondered if he’d even understood what Nick had said.


	33. Life

_February 3rd 2002_

 

The walls were a soft tone of lime green and fairly different from the rest of the hospital. Leighanne found them to be just as repulsive though. She walked slowly, wishing -not for the first time, but still with all her might- that this all was just some horrible, extensive and terrifyingly detailed nightmare. If she closed her eyes and counted to ten; he would be there, just as he was; and he would comfort her and smile and tell her to stop having such a wild imagination. He wouldn’t be down these ugly green halls. He wouldn’t be cuffed to his bed.

That was someone else.

Someone she barely recognized when she looked through the small window in the door. Sure, he still had the same blue eyes and she would recognize the color of his hair anywhere. But something had fundamentally changed, that she couldn’t put her finger on. It weren’t the cuts and bruises and burns on his skin, nor his pale complexion. It wasn’t the gaunt look in his eyes and the incredible thinness of his frame. It was something much deeper. Something that told her with a definite certainty that her Brian was already gone and would never come back.

She felt the tears well up again when she thought of that. She felt guilty for not coming to see him sooner. She’d heard how he’d reacted to Nick and the doctors and didn’t want to cause him anymore distress than he was already causing himself. That, and she’d been afraid. Nick had told her that Brian hadn’t even recognized him. Considering Brian and Nick had known each other for a long time, she was more than a little scared to find out if her own husband would even know who she was. And when she had finally made up her mind and wanted to go and see him, the doctors wouldn’t let her near him. They had said it was too dangerous. She had laughed.

Dangerous.

Brian.

Ha!

A few months ago, she had never imagined in her wildest dreams that she would ever walk the halls of a psychiatric hospital. That was something other people did, primarily in movies. This hospital didn’t look like the movies; there were no wailing, spastic people crawling the halls, there were no stern looking doctors with long white coats clutching their clipboards. But the hospital had still the same atmosphere of unease around it as those in the movies had had. And Brian was here. Which still seemed ridiculous, really. Brian wasn’t crazy. In fact, he was one of the most level headed people she had ever known. He’d had priorities, principles and goals he lived by. He’d had a strong sense of justice and was particularly unafraid to speak his mind when something rubbed him the wrong way. Sure, he was fairly quirky at times and could be extremely stubborn at exactly the wrong moments, but none of that would have ever made him end up in this place. She’d wondered what could have left him so mentally destroyed that they would label him as dangerous.

But then she’d heard the stories. Of how the staff had found Brian underneath his bed every other hour. Of how he became wild and unpredictable when they tried to get him out from underneath there. Of how he’d actually scratched somebody’s arm open in a blind panic. Of how it was truly and definitely for the better if he was put in restraints. She’d nodded vacantly when she’d realized they were actually asking for her consent and tried not to wonder if it was truly and definitely the right thing to do. Because the whole situation was unchartered territory for her. She didn’t know what to do or who to trust and based most of her decisions on the advice of the psychiatrist when she’d been assured that Brian was unable to make any rational decisions himself.

Instead, everything the doctors did was pumping his body full of calming medications and anti-depressants. Brian spend the better part of his day dizzy and confused and the other part asleep. It was then she wondered if he could ever love her the same way as he’d once done, and if she could love him like that as well.

He looked dizzy and confused now as well when she slowly entered the darkened room. Nevertheless, his head shot up when he heard someone come in. She noticed him tensing and stood still, waiting like she’d been instructed to do. There were a whole bunch of instructions she needed to follow when visiting Brian. The most important one she had figured was; do not force any contact.

She saw him tucking absently at his restraints while his gaze bore into hers. She could feel an almost physical stab in her chest when she saw no recognition at all in his eyes. Yes, it was dark, but she worried that if she turned on the lights -which she had been instructed not to do- that he would flip out. He was on a lot of medication, but his gaze was as intense as she’d ever seen it. He blinked at her in a nervous kind of way, an involuntary thing she’d seen on AJ sometimes as well. His eyes followed her continuously as she moved around the room, busying herself with pretending not to pay attention to him. She could feel the hairs on her neck rise though with every step she took. The room looked like any bedroom really. There was a bed, of course, some comfortable looking chairs, a coffee table, a desk and even a guitar propped up against one corner; an idea from Nick. It remained untouched though.

Her fingers slid across the strings lightly and the soft, somewhat muffled tones of a well-tuned acoustic guitar resounded through the room. Brian took in a sharp breath but didn’t say anything. That wasn’t wondrous, considering he basically hadn’t said anything since his return. He murmured in his sleep and screamed in panic, but he didn’t talk.

He didn’t eat either, which was very concerning, considering how dangerously close to starvation he had been a few weeks ago. The small, but noticeable tube in his nose that was pasted on his cheek with a little piece of tape and which disappeared behind his ear told her he was getting the most needed nutrition anyway. There was no way they were going to just let him starve if he didn’t want to eat.

After a little while, she began to notice a change in his composure. The fear and unease seemed to slowly leave him, replaced with an uncertain curiosity. Which was very remarkable and she felt a little flutter in her heart when she recalled how previous visitors had usually felt pressured to leave as Brian became more and more upset until they would vanish from his sight. She noticed the slight frown on his face when he observed her as she carefully lifted the fake plant from the desk and pretended to be very interested in it. For the first time in nearly sixty minutes, Brian averted his gaze and looked at the blankets wrapped around his legs. Leighanne decided not to say anything, not wanting to break the moment and startle him; as he seemed deep in thought.

She waited, nailed to the ground as she watched him close his eyes. Ten seconds passed and then he reopened them, looking straight at her. He gasped slightly, seemingly astonished. Leighanne found herself unable to look away from his intense stare. She could see the unhealthy desperation there, the misery and pain he had been going through for far too long and the growing longing as he intently studied her features, recognition slowly dawning upon his face.

He took a deep breath and then, mesmerized, reached out his hand as far as he could. She stood there, frozen to her spot beside the desk with the fake plant. Brian’s eyes were silently pleading with hers, but she couldn’t quite make out what he meant. She took a step towards him and cringed inwardly as she heard his breathing speed up. She took another step, the warning not to force any contact gnawing away at the back of her mind. Brian kept looking at her, tensing considerably as she moved closer. She saw the clear anticipation in his eyes and heard him gasp in shock when she took his hand. His eyes grew large and he started to shake, his hand clamping hers as if his life depended on it. Tears streamed silently along his face and Leighanne felt her own cheeks become wet as well.

“It’s okay,” she murmured softly when a sob escaped his throat, and she realized that everything was far from okay, but it was better than it had been. Cautiously, she raised her other hand that wasn’t trapped by Brian’s firm grip and moved it close to his face, making sure he could clearly see what she was doing. She gasped in amazement as he suddenly leaned into her touch, her fingers touching his wet cheeks. He had closed his eyes, the shuddering sobs wrecking his weak frame mercilessly. She wanted nothing more than to wrap her arms around him and hold him close, but she did neither of those things, knowing that he was definitely not ready for that. No words were spoken between the two of them and they remained in the same position for almost two hours. And Leighanne knew she loved her husband more than ever.


	34. 34. Monsters

_February 6th 2002_

She clicked the top of her pen to gain his attention. He looked up in confusion for a second before returning his gaze to his hands. She knew he didn’t understand what she wanted from him. His wife gave her an apologetic smile and she smiled back. She had been a psychiatrist for over thirty years; if Brian’s behavior would have bothered her, she should have retired long ago.

Doctor Mellory Phillips adjusted her position in the chair, making sure to portray how relaxed and harmless she was. Brian’s nervousness was something they would have to work on, she mentally noted. His agitation was obvious by the way his eyes flew in every direction while he kept his head down and every now and then, something unknown to the rest of the world seemed to startle him as he would sometimes jerk his head at random moments. She observed his behavior carefully without saying a word and tried not to show the fascination she felt. It had been over two weeks and he was still in complete survival mode. There were no signs that he was mentally processing any of what had happened to him. In many ways, his mind was still in that basement.

Except for when his wife was there.

He seemed calmer then; more trustful. He clung to her to get a glimpse of reality, and although Doctor Phillips suspected that the forceful and dependent connection could cause problems later in the process, for now, it was clear that he was progressing with her by his side.

She clicked the pen again and the young man looked up as if on cue, a hint of annoyance in his eyes besides the fear that was present constantly. He actually stared at her for a couple of seconds as if telling her to quit being so irritating. She smiled, glad she finally caught his attention the way she had intended. She carefully laid the pen in front of her on the coffee table, quite aware that Brian was looking at her, although he pretended not to. She had been pretty hopeful for today; ever since the news had reached her that Brian had not lashed out at the doctor who’d come in this morning to check on his shoulder. They hadn’t needed to sedate him, which was progress in itself, really. And his wife hadn’t even been there. Today would be the day to start trying better communication.

Communication was the key, she always said. She looked up and saw Brian look away quickly. She smiled again, knowing the young man was curious about her, now that he had somewhat assured himself that she wasn’t going to harm him or his wife. He had a pale face, a thin frame and his hands seemed to be continuously shaking. He looked just like the others.

Mellory had encountered many kidnapping victims in her life. She had decided twenty-five years ago that it would be her specialty and ever since then she’d taken on cases of kidnapping with severe forms of abuse. In all those twenty-five years, she’d only had nine cases of true human trafficking; Brian’s made ten. She knew very few colleagues of hers in this country that had had more. The form of kidnapping seemed rare in accordance to this fact, but she suspected the truth was that most victims never even made it as far as a psychiatrist. It was hard to know that she couldn’t help everybody; that most victims died while they were either still captured, or shortly after being rescued. There were countless cases of missing persons that were suspected to be involved in human trafficking -or modern slavery- that had never been solved. Mellory took some solace in the fact that the police and FBI had been very busy eliminating a big trafficking circle in the mid-north of the country lately. Around thirty people had been arrested, believed to be involved with lots of disappearances around the country. Along with Brian, sixteen other young people had been successfully rescued. Mellory tried to keep up with the latest complications, having read up on Brian’s case in only one night, fascinated to find out that his case had been the catalyst for many of the other cases to be solved. The young Backstreet Boy had been sold for a ridiculous amount of money by three reapers. The ones that initiated the kidnapping and usually worked on commission were morbidly called ‘reapers’, since they often sealed a death sentence the moment they violently took a person away from their environment.

Brian’s reapers had made a lot of mistakes. Reapers usually refused to take on celebrity cases, no matter how much money was involved. The Emmery brothers must have not gotten that memo, because they had taken two Backstreet Boys, and had let one of them escape. Supposedly overcome with stress, they haphazardly dragged Brian across the north, while not always doing a very good job of hiding the Backstreet Boy, -who many people knew by face- from the rest of the world. Brian had been spotted in at least two bars and the police had been hot on the brothers’ heels. After having sold their prize for an astounding 32 million dollars, the kidnappers had seemed to completely vanish from the face of the earth. That is, until the middle brother came in to report his siblings at the police station, claiming his brothers had scammed him out of his money. After this betrayal, things had gone very fast; Jacob Emmery had proceeded to give the FBI countless names involved in the trafficking ring, under which the current captor of Brian Littrell and Thomas Fenn. Once Travis Ramos had been informed that his name was on the list, he’d made a revelation video for the two bodies to be found in the woods of Minnesota, in an attempt at showing his remorse for what he had done. When he figured out that it didn’t make a difference and realized he had to face the gigantic consequences, just like the rest that had been arrested, he had committed suicide a few miles over the Canadian border. Mellory had shaken her head when she’d read the report. At least Brian’s previous two captors had been successfully arrested and awaited trial in prison at the moment. For the Emmery brothers; Jacob had been granted immunity by the state, his siblings faced life in jail.

Brian was aware of none of this and his psychiatrist had decided long ago that he didn’t need to know anything about the technicalities of his case until he personally asked for them, which could be never. Mellory thought about the other nine cases she’d taken on in the past. Their ages had ranged from fourteen to thirty. Their kidnap period ranged from two to a hundred and six weeks.

Doctor Phillips had been able to successfully rehabilitate three out of nine. She still saw those three regularly and they would need counseling for the rest of their lives, but in many ways, they had been able to move on from the horrific experiences they had encountered. For the other six it was too late. Four had committed suicide within a year, another after three years, and the sixth was locked up somewhere in a mental facility in Ohio, completely catatonic.

Mellory thoughtfully observed Brian’s features. She had never seen him smile, nor did she expect him to, but she knew he had potential to join the three that had made it out on the other side. He showed progress every other day, even if it was just small and seemingly insignificant; it meant a great deal. It would take months, possible years before he would be able to function again in daily life, but Mellory was willing to take that challenge. Brian was twenty-six, almost twenty-seven and he’d been captured for over thirteen weeks. It was not certain whether his complete recovery was a guaranteed fact yet, but doctor Phillips was optimistic.

Especially when she saw that the crippling fear had left the young man’s face and he was looking at her questioningly, if not a little insecurely. She cleared her throat, and when the noise didn’t seem to bother Brian much, she proceeded to speak.

“Brian, my name is doctor Mellory Phillips. I am your psychiatrist. We’ve met before; do you remember that moment?”

Brian looked at her sternly, then shot his wife next to him a quick look before shaking his head. It was the most he had communicated with anyone up ‘til this point. Leighanne Littrell looked excitedly at Mellory, happy with the sudden step forward. Mellory frowned though; not really thrilled with the lack of recall. She had met Brian several times before actually, but he never seemed to recognize her. She wasn’t sure if it was because of the trauma he’d been through or if it was because of the suspected brain damage. But the fact that his brain chose to only pick up very little and selected new information was very concerning. Forced drug abuse was not uncommon in the cases Mellory had had to deal with, but it did make it more complicated. The first priority was to snap his mind out of the current survival mode it had been trapped in. Only after that, they could determine whether the memory problems were permanent or not.

“Do you know where you are?” the psychiatrist asked. She wasn’t surprised when Brian shook his head again as he watched her intently. His jerky movements had lessened now that he had something particular to focus on. He still blinked too much and his face would twitch every now and then, but Mellory knew that she had his complete attention. He was sitting straight up in his chair across from her at the coffee table, his thin arms carefully situated on the surface of the table. His wife was on his left and expectantly moved her gaze from the doctor to her husband and back. She had been instructed not to speak during the session, but Mellory sensed that she had trouble keeping silent.

“You’re in a hospital, Brian,” the doctor informed slowly, seeing no reaction in his eyes, as if she was telling him a story that didn’t involve him entirely. “Can you tell me the very last thing you remember?”

Brian looked at her, a strange kind of smile curling his mouth upward. “Monsters,” he whispered silently, watching her face with anticipation.

“Monsters?” Mellory repeated and saw Brian nod. She was startled when his hand suddenly shot out and grabbed her own on the coffee table.

“They’ll be down soon,” he warned cryptically in a grim tone.

The psychiatrist shook her head, “There’s no monsters here, Brian,” she said in a reassuring voice.

Brian only smiled again, “Very soon.”

The conversation had taken a bit of a disturbing undertone and Mellory tried to get back to the original subject, not wanting to force Brian to think about monsters for too long. “Do you remember coming to the hospital?” she asked instead.

“Better hide,” Brian said, ignoring her question altogether.

“Do you remember what happened after the rescue?”

“In the shadows,” Brian rushed, his breathing speeding up and a tremor traveling through his body.

“Shadows?” Leighanne asked in concern, fearfully looking at her husband.

“Hide in the shadows, Thommy,” Brian clarified, “they’ll be down very soon.”


	35. 35. Shout

_February 9th 2002_

“And he doesn’t freak out anymore?” Nick’s voice was soft, but his stare bore into Leighanne’s so intensely, she was afraid it was going to burn right through her and come out the back of her head.

“No,” she said, looking away, “sometimes. I mean... the doctor thinks it’s a good idea if you came over.”

“Why?” Nick asked skeptically. Nobody but Brian’s wife had been allowed to see him for almost a week, why was now different?

“Because...” Leighanne hesitated, wondering how to make it sound well enough, “Because you two have... shared experiences.”

Nick raised an eyebrow, then two. “I see,” he murmured.

“So you’ll come?”

Nick sighed, leaning back against the bench in the park. They had met up here like they were going to perform some kind of drug deal or something. Leighanne had been very hush hush on the phone and had made him swear not to tell anybody about their meeting. Now it seemed very overdramatic, but Nick guessed that’s just who she was. “I guess I don’t really have a choice.”

“We are doing this for him,” Leighanne reminded him heatedly.

“He nearly pulled my arm out of its socket the last time I saw him,” Nick defended weakly, “He was vicious.” He remembered the sudden pain that had flashed through his arm the last time he visited Brian. He supposed he had unconsciously gotten too close to the bed and Brian had latched onto his wrist and pulled. And unlike other times when Brian had snapped, when he’d handled out of fear, this time he’d seemed out for causing pain, as he didn’t let go of Nick’s arm until the younger man had started to yell. Brian had actually wanted to hurt him and it struck a chord deep within Nick when he had realized the glint of sadistic satisfaction on his friend’s face. To say it had freaked him out would be putting it mildly.

“He’s much better now that he has a new mix of meds,” Leighanne assured him impatiently. “He actually talks now.”

“Really?” Nick questioned, contemplating whether to believe her or not.

“Well, a little, but he’s getting there,” Leighanne sighed. Nick waited. She seemed to want to say something else, but was stuck finding the words.

“But?” he supplied.

“But what?”

“There’s a but,” he stated matter-of-factly.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” She said stubbornly.

“Leighanne...”

“Alright,” she exhaled, her shoulders slumping. She stayed silent for a few more seconds before sighing again, “it’s... weird. He’s like, stuck in some sort of loop or something. He’s not talking to us, not really. He’s calling us Thommy most of the time. You know? As in Thomas? That boy that died? He’s still in that godforsaken basement, Nick.”

Nick gasped slightly, mentally scolding himself for not thinking of that sooner. It made perfect sense: Brian’s aggression and intense fear of everything around him. He was scared of his own hands sometimes; as if they might someday reach up and smother the life out of him on their own account. Brian would deal with that fear by sitting on his hands for the remainder of the day, which certainly did not help in the healing process of his broken fingers. Nick knew about this because Leighanne had told him everything that went on. Or, she used to, as he hadn’t heard from her in three days. Apparently there had been progress in those few days he was not aware of.

“What do you mean?” Nick asked, despite knowing what it meant in some way.

“He’s stuck in a survival state,” Leighanne explained slowly, “he’s not able to process anything that has happened to him really. He can’t deal with those things until he snaps out of it. We need to snap him out of it.”

“Do _we_ need to do it or does that psychiatrist have to do it?” Nick grumbled, remembering doctor Phillips calmly watching while Brian was wrenching Nick’s arm out of its socket. He didn’t like her from the start.

“We all have to do it,” Leighanne countered sternly.

Nick sighed and paused; then nodded. “Alright then.”

“Bring the baseball cap.”

 

_Date: unknown_

He had been nodding off for a few minutes, his head snapping back up whenever his head sagged too low. He was tired, but didn’t completely understand why. He hadn’t eaten in so long, but somehow, the hunger had faded. He felt stronger, healthier. But how?

The door opened with a soft click and he moaned unconsciously, his body tensing up in a way that he couldn’t control. The Woman with the Golden Hair stepped in and he relaxed. He had never come around to ask her name, but somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew it. He just couldn’t quite grasp onto it. He felt ultimately at ease with her; she was the one that could bring light into his darkness. The one that could touch his skin and make him feel warm again, if only for a while.

She was the one that utterly destroyed him whenever she left.

He felt the fear slamming back into him when he saw someone else enter the room after her. The blond man kept his head down, carefully keeping his eyes from Brian’s. Brian recognized him vaguely. The man had come in a few times before; when Brian had been too out of it to really do anything about it. He didn’t like men coming in here.

He didn’t like men.

He hazily remembered grabbing the man’s arm once and latching on for dear life. The man had yelled in pain and Brian had pulled even harder before letting go. He couldn’t remember why he let go, but he hadn’t seen the man ever since that happened. He’d been frenzied, adrenaline coursing through his body at the thought of having defeated the monster. Now that he felt stronger, he would show them that he was able to fight back, that he wasn’t going to let them hurt him or the Golden Haired Woman if he had a choice.

And now he was back, clutching something in his hands that Brian wasn’t able to identify right away.

“Baby?”

He tore his eyes away from the blond man that had chosen a spot on the far side of the room away from Brian and focused on the Woman instead. He looked at her, trying to convey the confusion he felt. Why had she brought this monster with her and to him? What was the purpose of this? He frowned at her, waiting for an explanation that would satisfy.

“Baby, this is Nick,” the Woman smiled warmly and the man across the room looked up briefly, awkwardly, “He would like to talk to you.”

Brian looked at her with a hurt expression and shrunk back; familiar feelings of panic slowly creeping up his body. He shook his head and shied away when she tried to touch him to reassure him. He had just decided to start screaming when the man suddenly revealed the baseball cap in his hands and put it on his head.

Things immediately clicked into place and Brian’s eyes widened, recognition hitting him like a ton of bricks. He felt his heart hammering in his throat and his breathing had turned to shallow gasps as he took in the man’s appearance.

 _“Nicky,”_ he breathed, mesmerized.

A million different emotions flashed through Nick’s eyes, but he seemed to eventually settle on relief. A smile broke through and Brian could see the tears beginning to form in his eyes. “Hey Bri,” Nick choked.

Brian could feel his own emotions boiling up and started to shake, “Nicky,” he repeated, his disused voice breaking. For so long, he had tried to talk to Nick by clutching the filthy baseball cap. His voice had been shriveled in tears as he’d pleaded for forgiveness so many times. And now, Nick was here, appearing just like the Woman did whenever Brian counted to ten. He relished in the thought that his mind could come up with the people he needed whenever he needed them. It was a wonderful thing actually; to go insane. The Woman smiled and softly left the room, her hair dancing as she walked. Brian longingly watched her leave.

“Hey,” Nick’s voice was soft, and he was careful when he took a few steps towards Brian. Brian wanted to grab him and wrap his arms around him, but he couldn’t, because of the straps around his wrists.

“I’m so sorry,” Brian choked out, his eyes pleading with Nick to come closer. “I’m so sorry.”

Nick took a few more steps, halting at the end of the bed and frowned, “For what?” he asked incredulously.

“Getting you killed,” Brian said in a smothered voice, the sobs invading his throat and leaving his mouth in an uncontrolled manner.

Nick quickly sat down at the edge of the bed and touched one of Brian’s legs, “But you didn’t!” he rushed hurriedly, “You didn’t, Brian. I’m okay. You saved my life.”

Brian shook his head, “I should never have made you escape; it wasn’t safe. It’s all my fault!”

Nick watched him with a shocked expression, unable to form words, which Brian found strange. Now that he was closer, Nick didn’t really look like Nick. He seemed much older than Brian remembered; the light spark in his eyes dimmed as he stared at Brian helplessly. “No,” he whispered quietly, his own voice lost in tears now, “No, that’s not true... I made it, Bri. I didn’t die.”

A sad smile formed on Brian’s face and his eyes darkened, “You’re not real,” he said brokenly. Nick’s face scrunched up and he quickly grabbed Brian’s bound wrists, squeezing tightly. Brian didn’t move or scream, knowing that ghosts couldn’t really hurt you.

“But I am!” Nick cried out harshly, causing Brian to jump, “I’m right here, Brian. I’m right here! You know it, you know it’s real!”

Brian winced at the stab of pain sparking through his head. Nick was so close now, their faces were almost touching. Brian could smell him; memories flooding his broken mind. They stabbed and hurt and burned through his already fried nerves. He let out an anguished cry, slamming into Nick’s solid body as he threw himself forward. Nick’s arms hesitatingly enveloped him; a warmth spreading through his entire body. Brian could feel every single detail; Nick’s shirt as it slowly got wet with hot tears, the untended four day old beard starting at the upper part of Nick’s throat, tickling Brian’s forehead; the slightly cold, but smooth skin of Nick’s arms around him and Nick’s own tears, dropping onto Brian’s neck and making him shiver.

It was amazing how his mind could come up with such a detailed illusion. Nick -the real Nick- was dead. Just like Thomas. All because of Brian. But Thomas had told him Nick was alive and then he was shot and then there were footsteps and voices and a helicopter and-

Every image in his head was a jumbled mess of memories and deformed pieces of information. How was he ever supposed to know what was real and what wasn’t? How could he just make up Nick’s face and smell out of thin air? And why did Nick look so different from what he remembered?

Nick quickly let him go when Brian began to shake in earnest. The younger man watched in fear as his friend started to gasp for air, moaning in distress. The stabs inside his head became unbearable and Brian screamed, blinded by confusion and pain. Nick’s face blurred, and Brian’s vision was flooded with white. His heart hammered in his chest, his throat, everywhere.

Then everything stopped.


	36. 36 Block

_February 10th 2002_

“Is he gonna be okay?” Nick asked, his voice high-pitched, still not having come down from the panic he had felt a few minutes before.

“He should be just fine,” doctor Phillips reassured calmly. “It actually helps.”

Nick blinked; then narrowed his eyes as he stared at the psychiatrist. Was she serious? “Are you serious?” he questioned, a little harsher than he’d intended, “That did _not_ help!”

“Maybe not in this amount,” Phillips admitted, carefully straightening a file on the table, “but he recognized you, didn’t he?”

“No, he didn’t,” Nick shot back, getting angry, “he recognized what he thought was my _ghost._ ”

“Why do you think he reacted the way he did?” the doctor asked, looking at him curiously.

“I would freak out if I saw a ghost,” Nick grumbled. He stopped pacing when he got to the corner of the hall, then turned around and paced back.

“But he didn’t freak out,” Phillips insisted, walking just a few steps behind him, trying to keep up, “he didn’t freak out until you assured him you were real. Until he could feel you. He perceived the thought of you as a ghost more likely than you being real. And until you broke that assumption, he was not making progress.”

“You call this progress?” Nick scoffed, “That was a freaking seizure!”

“It was too much at once, his mind couldn’t handle it in this fragile state,” the woman sighed, “besides, it confirms the already presumed epilepsy, at least now we can give him the adjusted medication.”

Nick shook his head, a slight feeling of disgust entering his mind, “How can everything be so clinical to you doctors? I put him through hell there.”

“He’s putting himself through hell.”

“It’s not his fault!”

“I wasn’t saying that-”

“What the hell happened?” Leighanne exclaimed, hurrying through the hallway at where Nick and Doctor Phillips where. “Why did he have a seizure?” She turned to Nick, her eyes flaming, “What did you _do?_ ”

Nick threw up his hands, “I didn’t do anything you didn’t tell me to do!” He said, “If y’all want to go and continue torturing him like this, y’all are some pretty disturbed people. He’s had enough torture for six lifetimes; I’m out.” He resolutely turned around and marched towards the exit; feeling the angry, helpless tears threatening to overflow. It wasn’t fair. None of it was. Nobody deserved this, not even the evilest person in the entire world. So why did it happen to them; to Brian? What? Was Nick just supposed to sit by and watch his friend break down? Was he just going to watch him go insane? Was that what was going to happen next?

He slammed the door behind him and squeezed his eyes shut as he blindly began to walk along the road. It was late and besides him, only trees and fields could be seen for miles. He shuddered, reminded that his jacket was still inside the building as the cold winter wind cut through his clothing. He didn’t really care though. Here, inside the loneliness of the vacant road, nothing stopped him from dwelling on his thoughts.

He remembered being on the golf course, he remembered Brian laughing at him because of his terrible golfing skills. He remembered the last concert they’d played, the roaring crowd that just approved of everything they did, sang or said. He remembered Brian’s voice, clear as a beacon in darkness, soothing as a comfortable blanket. He remembered the last prank Brian had pulled on him, how his friend had poured a gigantic bucket of ice water on Nick’s head when he’d unsuspectingly stepped out of the shower. It had been lame, cheap and typical. What he wouldn’t give to have another bucket of ice water poured over him, just to see his friend’s stupid grin when the shock wore off; to hear him yelp and see him sprint away before Nick could catch him, laughing all the way as they ran uncontrollably through the venue.

Why couldn’t it just be like that again?

He felt a stab of despair and his knees began to shake. He stopped walking and crouched down at the side of the road. Grabbing at his hair, he let out a cry of frustration.

It wasn’t fair!

Everything had so fundamentally changed. Everything. From the tiny second that the both of them had stood outside of the golf course and he’d felt some stranger’s hands grabbing him from behind and heard Brian yelling at him in a panic. That was the exact point.  He shook his head wildly; his fingertips digging into his face as he tried to block the memories of those horribly three nights in that basement. But how could he ever forget those cold nights, the harsh voices and those terrifying masks? How could he ever not remember that fear, the anguish of not knowing what was going to happen? He could still hear Brian’s voice, clear as a bell, screaming for him to run and not to look back. Not to ever look back. He could still see Brian’s lifeless body when he had looked back. The thought of Brian trying to sacrifice himself for him was something he couldn’t possibly bear. But he had to. He had escaped; without his best friend.

The biggest mistake he’d ever made.

He should have been there right beside his friend, he should have refused the ridiculous plan and knocked some sense into Brian; knowing it could never work. Knowing it was never meant to work anyway. The way he had run through the woods; like a headless chicken, still disgusted him. The branches had scratched his skin open and he’d fallen over more than once, his broken wrist throbbing before he fell over unto the asphalt. During that mad run through the woods; not once had he thought about going back. It was only when he was found that he wished he could go back, when Kevin had tried to pry the story from him, when the nightmares had started to plague him at night, when AJ had broken into his house, when the first video had arrived with Brian’s terrified screams, when Howie had arranged that stupid memorial, when he was forced to witness against the Emmery brothers, when AJ had insisted that he and Nick should go with and recover Brian’s body.

When he’d eventually rushed through the basement and had taken what was left of Brian in his arms.

“No!” he screamed, to no one in particular. “No, you can’t do this!” the tears streamed across his face, not likely to ever stop, “That should have been me!” he cried out, “Why wasn’t that me? Why the fuck did you let this happen, huh? This your idea of funny, you fucker? Fuck you! Fuck all of you up there! You laughing your asses off, aren’t ya?”

He didn’t flinch as he let his fists crash down on the asphalt. The small stones dug into his skin, but it felt kind of good. The pain was welcome and warm and well-deserved. It was the least he could do. He’d witnessed today with his own two eyes how lost and broken his friend really was. He couldn’t get rid of the image of Brian’s body stiffening to the point where he was completely rigid. His head had slammed against the headboard of the bed as his eyes had rolled back. He’d begun to thrash on the bed and Nick had screamed in fear, sure that Brian was dying. It had ended after only three minutes, but it had seemed to go on forever. Brian’s movements had stilled and he had not moved ever since.

Nick reached up and pulled the baseball cap from his head. He should burn it. But there was something so mesmerizing about it. It was the only connection Brian and he shared right now. It bound them, like two people tied to a log and heading for a waterfall. Neither of them could get off and they only had each other to hold on to. The cloth was worn and raveling and some dark red stains would never disappear, no matter how much he would wash it.

Nick would never burn it.

He would give it to Brian. And he would bring him back.


	37. 37 Unknown - Liberty

Fascinated, he stared at the ticking clock right above the door, his muscles tense and his eyes unblinking. The noise was calming and the clock was the only thing that moved in the entire room.

But he could still hear them.

Their voices were low, grumbling, threatening. It had kept him on edge for so long now, he started to wonder if it would go on forever. The clock read 3 pm, but he didn’t register the time. The whole notion of time had been a destroyed concept for so long. Long. Yes. Centuries even, maybe. Who knew?

He flinched when the grumbling hum got louder. They would come in any second now, and he would be terribly unprepared. He wasn’t exactly sure what they would do to him either. He remembered the time when it was just hitting and stomping. Then it evolved to carving and cutting and some other terrible vile things; stuff that made him feel so sinful and unclean that it wouldn’t matter how much he would pray or wash, he would never be able to be clean once more. But that method of torture had eventually stopped as well. He couldn’t quite put his finger on what they were trying to accomplish now. He had been brought to this clean room with a bunch of inanimate objects and his wounds had been cleaned and were slowly healing.

But he wasn’t a fool.

One of these days, they would strike at him, and he would be prepared after all. He would laugh at them and say ‘Ha! You don’t scare me! I knew you’d come!’. But in the meantime, there was the nice Golden Haired Lady to keep him company. And Nick, with his baseball cap. And a dozen other figments of his imagination. He didn’t mind; really, he didn’t. He would rather lose his sanity than be stuck here all alone.

He would be alone forever. He smiled at that thought sometimes; the monsters had gotten to him. They would be in charge for the rest of his life and he wouldn’t fight them.

There was a strange woman sometimes though. Someone he didn’t remember ever seeing before. But that was alright; there were a lot of thing he didn’t necessarily remember. She usually stayed quiet and lurked in a corner of the room, observing his every move. He tried to stay as still as possible at those times and to not upset her. It worked. Yet sometimes, she came closer. Sometimes, she intended on talking to him and he would warn her that there were monsters outside and that they might come in here very soon. She assured him that there were no monsters at all and he’d smile, a wave of pity enveloping him. She was naive. She didn’t know that the monsters could hurt her. She didn’t know what the monsters would do; the disgusting, indescribable things they would bestow upon her. And then she would slowly lose her memory; just like he had. She would lose every grip on reality; just like he had. And then she would find solace in her own hallucinations; just like he had.

Poor thing.

He had tried yelling at her; to get out before they came in here. It was him they wanted, not her. But she stayed, stubborn and unfazed by his rage.

Fine. She’d find out soon enough.

He blinked. The clock read 5 pm. He wondered why there was a clock. The cruel act of waiting was getting on his nerves. Nobody had been in the room for six hours and it made him more than a little anxious. He’d tried to close his eyes and count to ten, but the Woman didn’t want to seem to appear at his will anymore. It was strange. The more he became aware of the fact that she was just a part of him, and not actually there, the less she appeared.

Although he’d been staring at the door for all this time, he still jumped in shock when it eventually opened. Nick stepped in and closed the door, the baseball cap he’d worn the day he died was firmly planted on his head. He looked tired and beaten, his skin pale and his hair was all over the place. His eyes widened when he turned around, a look of pure amazement on his face.

“Brian, oh my God,” he breathed and Brian shrunk back, unsure. Nick’s appearance was strange and not like he had imagined. Even though it was his own mind that let him see Nick in the first place, he didn’t know why Nick looked the way he did now. He watched the younger man -who seemed rather old, now he thought about it- apprehensively, not speaking a word. Nick seemed at a loss for words, but made up for it by coming his way over to the table in three long strides. Brian saw the tears brimming in his eyes along with a relieved, but sad smile that spread slowly across his face. Confused, he pressed himself back into the couch.

“I thought I’d never see you again,” Nick rushed, a sob intruding his words and the tears finally flowing over onto his face. He reached out a hand and Brian moved back. Nick’s face fell and he withdrew his hand as if he’d been burnt. “It’s okay,” he whispered brokenly. “It’s alright now, it’s over, Bri.”

Brian looked at him, the confused panic slowly making it way up from his stomach. He furrowed his brow as he felt his hands starting to shake. Nick slowly took his hands, his warm touch reassuring and conflicting every single one of Brian’s thoughts. “I’m here now, Bri. I promised I’d come back for you, didn’t I? I’m back now, Brian. We’re all here. We’re gonna get you out of this goddamn place, alright? We’re gonna get you fixed up and then we’re gonna get you home.”

“Home.”

Brian savored the word, an intense longing filling his entire body. Although he didn’t quite remember what home looked like or what people were involved there, the concept and feeling had always stayed the same. Home sounded like heaven, a place he could dream of, but never quite reach. Home was a foreign term to him, but at the same time, it was more wonderful than anything else he could ever imagine. And he wanted to go there.

Nick’s touch was unwavering as he smiled softly, “That’s right. We’re gonna go home, and  we’ll leave all of the bad stuff behind, alright?”

“No monsters.” Brian’s gaze was fixated on the wall as he spoke; the monotonous sounds falling from his mouth without any indication of emotion whatsoever.

“No monsters anymore,” Nick said, swallowing, “Nobody’s ever gonna hurt you again, alright? I promise. We’ll just pick up where we left off, pretend nothing ever happened.”

Brian’s gaze shifted to Nick’s eyes. It was a trap. It must be. The biggest clue he had on that was the fact that Nick was dead. Home sounded wonderful, but he could never go back there. It just wasn’t possible. He pulled his hands from Nick’s grasp, shaking his head frantically.

“What do you want from me?” he hissed, suddenly feeling entrapped on the couch, with Nick looming over him.

Nick frowned and muttered something under his breath, “I-I’m gonna get you out. It’s me, Brian.”

“You’re dead!” Brian spat, shaking violently now. He felt like lashing out and running as far away as possible.

“I’m not dead!” Nick’s voice rose in volume and Brian suddenly fell still. “I’m not dead, Bri. We’ve been over this a million times. I got out. I survived. And so will you.”

Brian squeezed his eyes closed, trying to block the vision of Nick from his mind. A thousand different images flashed through his thoughts, but suddenly, there was one image that was very clear above the rest.

“Thomas,” he whispered, opening his eyes slowly. Nick was still there, but so was Thomas. The young man smiled at him and Brian felt his heart breaking. It was Thomas that had told him Nick was still alive. It was Thomas that had died because of him. It was Thomas death that he confused with Nick’s. Thomas gave him a slight nod before getting up and walking out of sight. Brian suddenly remembered the gunshots. The way the young man had fallen down the stairs. The blood that was literally everywhere. He remembered screaming at the monster. Screaming for it to shoot him too. Screaming for it to be over. Oh, how he’d longed for an ending. How he’d longed to be finally done.

And now Nick was here.

And Nick wanted to bring him home. And Nick was not dead. Brian slowly reached out to him, his fingers curling around the baseball cap and taking it from Nick’s head. He’d half expected Nick to just vanish up in smoke when he removed the cap. But Nick was still there, his hair flattened from wearing the hat and his tired smile reappearing on his face. Brian took a deep breath, carefully placing the worn cap on his own head. He sighed, a tremendous weight suddenly lifted from his mind and body, his thoughts and senses clearing for the first time in so long.

“Home,” he said softly, looking at Nick intently.

Nick nodded slowly, “Just close your eyes,” he whispered quietly, “It’ll all be better when you wake up.”

Brian obeyed, lying down carefully on the couch, suddenly dead tired. He didn’t notice Nick moving away or the door opening and closing. His sleep was dreamless and deep. When he woke up, he knew one thing for certain.

He got out. He survived. There were no monsters here.


	38. 38. Epilogue.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> bloop
> 
> the end.
> 
> Anyone in for a sequel?

 

Date: June 25th

She leaned back and closed her eyes, enjoying the warm sunlight on her face and the soft strumming of guitar strings next to her. The grass was still fairly wet from yesterday’s rainfall, but none of them minded.

“I think a bug just crawled into my asscrack,” AJ announced solemnly.

“Shh, I have to concentrate,” Brian replied, returning his intense gaze to Nick and the guitar.

“This one’s easy,” Nick guided, his hands gliding over the strings as he started to hum the melody he intended.

“It doesn’t help that your guitar skills suck,” Brian grumbled, narrowing his eyes.

“Oh come on, you knew this one yesterday,” Nick encouraged, continuing his humming.

Brian thought for a moment, “Is that supposed to be _‘More Than That’?_ ” he questioned incredulously.

“Duh!” Nick exclaimed.

“You suck! That was like, nothing like the original.”

Leighanne smiled as she studied Nick. It was clear that there were a million things he wanted to say in return, but he held back. His guitar playing was actually improving, she thought. At least ever since he’d volunteered to help Brian with his memory training. Brian had a general concept of his memories, but he struggled a great deal with details. Names and events and dates and songs were a big jumbled mess that he couldn’t sort out on his own. But little by little, he seemed to be getting more confident in his ability to recall certain details from his life.

She felt tears coming up and bit her lip, looking down at the ground to hide her face from the other three. The warm feeling of pride and hope was swelling up inside her when she saw Brian smile and shake his head as he moved one of Nick’s fingers one fret down on the guitar. Nick nodded eagerly and thanked him as the correct chord was finally produced. Leighanne smiled back at her husband when he turned his triumphant grin to her. The smile was real and it brought a sense of relief to her mind to know he wasn’t faking his mood like he did on some other days. She knew he could change in a heartbeat though, she’d seen it many times before. A word or a sound could set him off and he would retreat back into himself, not speaking or interacting with anyone. But today seemed to shape up like an exceptionally good day.

After the guitar session was over, the instrument lay abandoned in the grass next to Nick. They had spent the better part of the afternoon enjoying the wonderful weather and making conversation. They laughed abundantly when AJ mentioned one of the nurses’ obvious attractions for him. Nick insisted he was delusional and Brian just shook his head. He’d grown quieter as the day continued, but he still seemed calm and relaxed, so Leighanne wasn’t too worried.

“So, they have a definite date yet?” AJ asked a bit later, taking a bite from a particular large pizza slice.

“Sometime next week,” Brian nodded before stuffing his own mouth with pizza. He had been alarmingly thin for a long time and it wasn’t until about a month ago that Leighanne finally noticed he was actually finally gaining some weight.

“Next week!” AJ laughed, “The world better prepare!”

“They want me to get a dog,” Brian smiled, snatching the last pizza slice before Nick could get it.

“I thought you guys already had a dog?” Nick asked, frowning at the now empty pizza box. “You know, the little one that nips at your fingers.”

“Tyke,” Brian said, happy that he remembered the dog’s name, “No, I think they mean like one of those helping dogs,” he stated.

“A service dog,” Leighanne corrected softly.

“Right,” Brian mumbled.

“Doesn’t it take like forever to train those?” AJ wondered, lying down on the grass.

“I’m gonna say it’s already trained when you apply,” Brian responded.

“Okay,” AJ shrugged, shielding his face, “You gonna get the dog next week then?”

“Don’t think it’ll be that quick,” Brian sighed, leaning back and wincing slightly when his weight was supported by his bad shoulder, “Don’t know if I even want the dog or not.”

“Doctor Phillips thinks it would be a good idea,” Leighanne supplied calmly.

“My head is messed up; I’m not blind or anything. What’s a dog going to do that I can’t?” Brian muttered stubbornly, picking at a leave in the grass.

“It would help with seizures, for one, if-”

“STAY AWAY FROM ME BITCH! I’M GOING TO KILL YOU! I’MMA KILL EVERYBODY! STAY AWAY!”

The group of four stiffened and watched in astonishment as the elderly man came running across the field in nothing but a bathrobe. His face was reddened and the spit flew from his mouth as he ran away from the nurse following him, his shaking fists balled above his head.

Leighanne flinched at the man’s continuing string of obscenity and aggression and quickly let her gaze drift over to Brian, who had tensed considerably and was nervously observing the scene with uncertain eyes. She bit her lip, thankful for Nick, who had the mind to move in such a way, that the struggle between rampaging patient and the nurse was mostly blocked from Brian’s view. This kind of breakdowns weren’t uncommon in this place; in fact, they happened at least once a week, but each of them had the nasty consequence of upsetting other patients as well. And Brian wasn’t usually spared of the state of panic these clear signs of male aggression produced. Only two months ago, the mere mention of violence or aggressive behavior could set him off in a total meltdown, sometimes even reverting to the state he’d been in when he’d first arrived. Closing her eyes, Leighanne cursed the yelling man for ruining their day. The afternoon had been so lovely, so carefree and the last thing she wanted was to end it off abruptly with Brian panicking.

Yet, it ended as suddenly as it began. The nurse seemingly had back-up and the whole ordeal lasted no longer than six minutes total. The screaming man was dragged off into the building and the quiet returned once more, but Leighanne wondered for how long, feeling Brian shaking next to her.

“You alright, B?” AJ asked cautiously.

Brian’s gaze shifted and he nodded slowly, the haunted look of shock still in his eyes. “I don’t think that guy was wearing any underwear though,” He muttered.

Leighanne choked out a laugh, the feeling of relief and amazement filling her up inside, “That was for sure.”

“I think we should go inside, before I, too, will pull off my pants to get rid of the bugs that crawled in there,” AJ commented with a scoff.

Nick nodded, grabbing the forgotten guitar with one hand and pulling Brian to his feet with the other. The bond between the two had grown incredibly strong after the last six months and Leighanne sometimes felt a little jealous of the fact that Brian would discuss certain things with Nick instead of her. She supposed the reason was the shared experience the both of them had, although she doubted they ever talked about that. They began to walk towards the entrance of the hospital, the sun slowly setting in the sky. In a week, they would finally go home, and although she was more than a little scared of the prospection of having Brian function in the real world outside of the protective bubble the hospital had created for him, she was glad that at least it wouldn’t be as likely to encounter screaming men in bathrobes there.


End file.
